A Form of Escapism
by flubbles
Summary: Bella finds herself trapped in a loveless marriage, whilst going through the motions of everyday life. Her only form of escapism is the romance novels written by the recently retired, reclusive author E.A.M Cullen.
1. Chapter 1

This is my first ever fanfiction and to prove it, this is the second time I have uploaded this chapter!

It occurred to me I better have a disclaimer, all characters belong to S Meyer and I hope that my stab at storytelling doesn't deeply offend her!

Chapter 1

I glance anxiously at the antique wall-clock, digesting the ominous time it displays, I feel as though I have been punched in the stomach, all the wind leaving my sails. _He'll be home in exactly ten minutes._

With that thought in mind I spring into action carrying out my tasks with the precision and attention to detail that he has come to expect.

Dashing away from the window overlooking the garden and towards the dining table, my socked feet slide along the kitchen floor. Triple-checking the position of the knife and fork I am satisfied they are level with each other and smear free. I critically cast my eyes over the rest of the table; _I must view it as if through his eyes_. The side plate is located to the left of the fork, just how he likes it. The water glass to the right stakes its position above the knife, trapping the ice cold water it holds. A napkin that has been folded into a triangle lays horizontally on the spotless dinner plate, and a small sprig of lavender I have cut from our garden lay atop of the napkin.

Re-tying my awful chintzy apron – a Christmas present from my _beloved_, I stand in the kitchen, smoothing down my long flowing chestnut brown hair. I quickly slip off my socks, tucking them into the large pocket on the front of my apron.

Grabbing the shoes lying in the corner of the room, I put on the punishing heels he naively believes I wear all day. Tottering over to the kitchen hob, I check my reflection in the gleaming stainless steel. My chocolate brown eyes widen as I take in my appearance, we had only been married a few short years, but already I was beginning to look tired and older than the 25 years that I have actually amassed. My make-up was still visible, evening out my usual flushed complexion. I don't like to wear a large amount of make-up. He, however loves me to wear bright red lipstick and as I paint the colour on my lips I feel another piece of the persona he has created slip into place.

I met my husband whilst we were at university, I was studying English and he was completing a Business degree, our rooms were on the same corridor. I noticed him straightaway, he was so attractive, all strawberry blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. The first time he acknowledged me and asked me on a date, it felt as though the world had stopped turning. As time passed we became quite serious about each other. He was so different back then, generous, attentive...caring even, and he was a wonderful lover.

Coming back to the present from my trip down memory lane, I bend slowly and pull the oven door open, depositing two freshly made bread rolls so that they can warm through, using an oven glove I take the lid off the casserole containing yesterday's leftover roast beef, giving it a stir to make sure it hasn't burnt on the bottom of the pan. I feel faintly proud of my frugalness, I knew some household money saving tips that would be enough to make even the most devout member of the Women's Institute turn green with envy.

Certain that all of the items on my mental checklist are complete, I make my way to the refrigerator and grab a bottle of Stella Artois, so apt that his beverage of choice should be affectionately known as 'Wife Beater'. Setting his lager on the counter, I stretch to retrieve a warm bottle of lager from the back of the cupboard and place it in the refrigerator at the back, swapping it for a cold one. This way it would have more time to chill, ready for when he requires it. With shaking hands I count twice to make sure that enough lager is present in the refrigerator. There must always be six beers never more, never less, in the refrigerator at ALL TIMES - because of that _bastard,_ I won't ever forget again, it was a foolish mistake and there was no need to ever repeat it. Stroking the scar on my left upper arm through my blouse, it acts as a constant reminder to improve upon my forgetfulness, funny how excruciating pain can ensure that one was...better at remembering.

Reaching in the drawer next to the refrigerator for a bottle opener, I uncap the lager and pour it into a chilled pilsner glass, tilting the glass to ensure that there is just the right amount of foaming head. Another quick look at the clock tells me that there are only three minutes to go until the king of the castle returns home.

I walk to the front door, careful not to trip on the worn threadbare rug that covers the wooden hallway floor - I detest that rug, it was an heirloom from his family apparently. I knew that it held no actual value and it was a poor quality imitation Persian rug. Standing off to the right of the front door, I extend my right-arm at the elbow, ready to receive his coat upon arrival; my left thumb and index finger hold the pilsner glass by its small stem so as not to warm it unnecessarily. The position is false and uncomfortable if held for long periods of time, my mind drifts back to an evening where he was over an hour late, that had been...demoralizing.

My heartbeat quickens as I hear the familiar sound of his car pulling up to our house. I count slowly to ten under my breath as he parks in the drive and I listen for the slam of the car door, the gravel crunching under his expensive leather shoes as he clears the short distance to our front door.

As the doorknob turns I take in a sharp breath - He's here! Let the show begin. I feel a false smile stretch across my face, my cheeks straining with the effort.

"Isabella darling!" he booms as he comes through the door. "It's so wonderful to see you awaiting my return. It's these little things that make me realise you do appreciate how hard I work to keep you in the lifestyle that you have become accustomed."

Looking to the left, his eyes lazily rake over me, silently appraising me from head to toe, taking in my whole appearance. His gaze lingers longer than I like on my exposed collarbone and covered breasts, I feel as though I am standing here in nothing but my underwear. Clearly satisfied with what he sees, a small smile graces his thin lips and he leans in to kiss me fully on the lips. Returning the kiss, I can taste cigarettes and cheap coffee on his tongue as it forces past my lips and into my mouth. My eyes close tightly as I breathe through my nose, waiting for him to pull away first and end this torture. Eventually, he frees my mouth. "Yes, James darling, it's wonderful to see you also...of course I appreciate how hard you work, to ensure that I do not have to. I get so much satisfaction from keeping a good home for you..."

Shoving his coat and briefcase into my only free hand, he snatches the lager and takes a long swig. His eyes close as he lowers the glass and his tongue darts out to lick his lips. He grins somewhat eerily and opens his eyes, looking intently at me. "For us Isabella... you keep an agreeable home for us." I smile meekly at him and lower my head to stare at the floor. He turns on his heel and walks into the kitchen, I can hear the chair scraping along the floor as he seats himself at the kitchen table, waiting for me to serve him.

When he embraces me now, it's nothing like the passionate kisses we shared during our University years. It was in my final term, that James proposed, I was so happy we set a date for the following summer, my life was perfect and I didn't want for anything. We had a wonderful June wedding, all our family and friends were in attendance. It was shortly after we returned from our honeymoon in Italy that my Mother and Father were killed in a car accident. This was the turning point James began to act differently towards me, treating me more like property than his equal.

Placing his coat on the coat-hook and his briefcase by the door ready for the morning, I take a deep sigh and wander towards the kitchen ready to feign interest in my husband's anecdotes from his day at work.

****

As I clean the kitchen after our meal, I can hear James in the living room, idly flicking through the plethora of News Channels on the television. He really isn't a very bright man, despite the fact amount of news and current affairs programmes he watches. He could never persuade the rocks in his head to make some room for the knowledge he so desperately craved. Regardless of the lies he tells me, I know he isn't popular or in a position of power at work. The one year he decided to let me attend a work function, I had a very interesting conversation with a PA that worked in James' department. She confirmed everything I always suspected about his character, which somehow made it easier to suffer his self-important bullshit.

With the kitchen clean enough for a meal to be eaten off any given surface, I wander to the laundry room. Whilst loading the washing machine, I feel James' ominous presence in the doorway, he leans lazily against the doorframe, his feet crossed at the ankles. Turning my head a fraction, I look at his feet more closely and notice that he's wearing his casual shoes, I bite my bottom lip to try and suppress a smile. A surge of hope fills my heart as I wait for him to address me.

"Isabella, I'm going to the pub."

"Yes James, of course, have a lovely evening." Standing up fully, I smile brilliantly at him, grateful for the few hours of freedom that he has just bestowed upon me.

"I want to wear the cornflower blue shirt with the pin-stripe suit to work tomorrow. It'll need pressing" - Typical! Of course he'd leave me some chores to do.

My body tenses as I realise he's leaning in towards me, his hand reaches out and brushes my hair off of my right shoulder, kissing just below my earlobe. Closing my eyes I wait for the contact to be over, uncomfortable with his close proximity.

James snakes his hand down my shoulder and round to cup my right breast, he squeezes it roughly, his thumb rubbing the nipple through the fabric, I feel his breath hot in my ear "And when I get home…" pausing, he licks the inside of my ear "I'll expect the usual". I struggle to suppress the shudder that threatens to ripple its way down my spine, I can taste the bile rising in the back of my throat.

"O-f..Of course, James. I'll be waiting…"

Turning on his heel, he stalks out of the laundry room. I lean back against the wall for support. Closing my eyes I listen for the sound of James donning his coat and fiddling with the catch on the front door. I hear the door shut and his footsteps retreat down the driveway I shakily exhale, realising that I must have been holding my breath.

Shaking my head as if to clear it, relief swims through my veins, hastily I stuff all of the washing into the machine, now that James' towering presence no longer inhabits the house there isn't any need to be so overly cautious. Slipping off my punishing heels, I run to the kitchen and turn the radio on, the opening notes of ELO's 'Don't Bring me Down' come over the airwaves, this was one of my Father's favourite songs, I crank up the volume.

Dancing along to the music, the ironing is finished in a jiffy. Brewing myself a mug of hot sweet tea, I settle on the sofa with my preferred choice of escapism. Leafing through the pages of my well-worn romance novel, I pause at the picture of the author on the inside sleeve…E.A.M Cullen… I feel my heartbeat quicken and a warm feeling spreads throughout my whole body, paying particular attention to the area between my legs. He really is impossibly gorgeous, he conjures up images of the most amazing romantic settings and acts of chivalry and love against all odds in all of his works of fiction.

If only I could have a relationship like those depicted in his novels, to be ravaged in a meadow, or taken in the shower, I get hot just thinking about it.

Reading has become my only release from the current situation that seems to have crept up on me. After my parents were buried, it emerged that my Father's Accountancy Firm was experiencing financial difficulties and the business was forced to fold. I always believed that both my parents were sensible with money, however after all the assets were sold and the accounts and staff wages settled, there wasn't a penny left.

My world started to crash down around me, the loss of my parents was simply the beginning. James started working longer hours and suggested that I put off finding a full time job while I was grieving. At the time I believed he was being thoughtful, but as time went by my teaching course got put permanently on-hold and I didn't have any other qualifications other than my English degree to speak of.

I became a housewife and began to tend our home, at first it was fine. Yet James' ridiculous demands started to become more degrading. Constant orders followed by relentless criticisms wore me down. He makes me feel so inadequate and stupid, as though I am I not good enough for him. He can be so cruel at times, I'm so scared of his unpredictable mood-swings and impossible expectations.

****

I sit in bed reading, the glow from the bedside lamp lighting up my face and bouncing off the facets of red and brown in my long thick plaited hair. The sound of a key scratching against the keyhole breaks through the silence and is a sign that an inebriated James is home from the pub. Laying my magazine down on the bedside cabinet, I slip out of my nightshirt, folding it and tucking it under my pillow. I pull the bedcovers up to rest just below my chin and listen as each stair groans and protests under James' weight as he moves closer to the bedroom.

His fingers curl around the bedroom door and I notice how grimy his fingernails are, he wanders into the centre of the room sneering "Ah… there you are. Very good Isabella" He watches me whilst undressing messily, removing all items of clothing except for his white tennis socks, leaving his clothes in a heap. His eyes are black as coals as they lock on to mine, never moving from my face.

"I do hope you're naked under those covers" Slowly peeling back the duvet his eyes glaze over at the sight of my naked body. Involuntarily I shiver under his scrutiny, a smattering of goose-bumps dance around my form as if chasing the trail left by his leering eyes.

Gruffly climbing on top of me, I can feel his already hard cock pressing against my thigh, using his knee he roughly prises my thighs apart. Pushing all of his length into me, he begins a punishing rocking motion; my vagina is so dry and unimpressed that the burning pain is unbearable, but he doesn't notice my discomfort. As if it's a pathetic attempt at foreplay I hear him whisper breathily into my ear "Oh Isabella, you feel so good against my cock, aren't you flattered that my dick gets so hard for you?" the heady mix of real ale, cheap blended whiskey and cigarettes is pungent on his breath, he grinds further still into me. Nervous that my mouth might betray me and voice how I am really feeling, I simply nod in answer to his question and bite down on the inside of my cheek as I tighten my walls in the hope that his release will come quickly. I feel the familiar pumps of James' seed leaving his cock and emptying into me, his deep guttural groan is a welcome sign that it is all over.

Rolling off of me, the bedsprings squeak as James flops onto his stomach and begins to snore softly.

Feeling completely unfulfilled, sore and used, I close my eyes and cry silent tears. They weave a hopeless trail down my cheeks falling into my ears and hair. I try to stop my body from shaking with my sobbing so as not to wake him. Exhausted I will sleep to come, bringing with it a release of heady sweet dreams offering the passion and love, I read about and so desperately crave.

A/n: I also forgot the other vital part! A begging request for reviews and just a general nod from people as to whether they think this is worth continuing with. The second chapter is written, but requires some tweaking and the third chapter is in production. If people would be interested to see the other chapters please just let me know. I hope the English setting isn't too off-putting for anyone, but I'm not convinced I could write a believable American setting.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello All! Stephanie Meyer owns everything, but Englishward and Bella are all mine! As I publish this chapter I am sipping a shandy and feeling slightly nervous of how this chapter will be received. Whilst I don't go into too much detail about the abuse that Bella receives it is hinted at so please don't read if you would find that offensive. Enjoy and let me know what you think, getting review is absolutely lovely.

Chapter 2

Weeks turn into months and I struggle on with the dull monotony that my life has become. I fail to gain any satisfaction from maintaining an agreeable home. My only delight is being frugal with the meagre money that James provides, I do this to ensure I can put some money aside to fund my book habit. If only _my husband_ had an ounce of gumption, I'm sure he would be capable of earning more money and we wouldn't have to watch the purse strings so closely.

His pride and feelings of inadequacy keep me at home, and his sheer lack of drive and people skills, keeps him firmly in place on the bottom rung of the corporate ladder. James works for a plastics company as a Salesman, apparently business is tough at the moment and he barely makes his sales targets let alone bonuses. I have my doubts however, I'm curious as to where he finds the money for his bottomless pint glass at the pub.

It is on this cold morning that I find myself leaving the house to collect a parcel from the local Post Office. I button up my double-breasted coat and tuck in my scarf, smoothing a wayward tendril of hair behind my ear. As I set off down the garden path I find myself wishing we own two cars. We can only afford to run one car, which _he_ uses to travel to work. The village bus service operates a reliable two buses a day service, you can't guarantee what time the buses will appear, but there are always two buses a day! So the limited smattering of local shops was the only available option.

As I walk past the property of our recently deceased neighbour, I pause noticing that the 'For Sale' sign has been upgraded to a 'SOLD' sign, the letters printed in big blood-red capitals. The house itself is in desperate need of attention, new plumbing and re-wiring are essential, the new owners must be extremely wealthy or poor and incredibly patient. It is, however, a beautiful detached cottage with so much character. The intricate thatched roof, local Cotswold stone and lead lattice windows lend a certain charm to the period cottage.

The rambling wisteria trails a path up the side of the building, it looks beautiful in spring when its lilac flowers are in full bloom, hanging like large bunches of grapes. The cottage is the largest property in the village and it dwarfs our post-war ex-council monstrosity of a home. The long rambling garden that surrounds the cottage runs parallel to our own modest garden, and it contains a sizeable orchard which has been neglected for quite some time due to the ever declining health of the previous owners. The garden comes to a stop where it reaches the river which runs along the bottom of the land.

I have been scrumping for apple pie ingredients in the orchard in the past. Mrs Roberts had terrible eyesight and virtually non-existent hearing. My thoughts cloud over as I remember how her ailments have been of great benefit in the past. I regularly visited Mrs Roberts and it meant I didn't have to worry about inventing reasons to explain away a bruise here or there, or apologise for any of the disturbing noises emanating from the house from time to time during the nights. I shake my head to clear it of the dark thoughts and carry on with my journey.

Arriving at the village shops I wave at a few of the villagers I recognise and take in the sights around me. The local Public House, The Carlisle Arms is always shut on a Monday, which explains why the drayman is delivering barrels to be racked for tomorrow's opening. This discovery upsets me as it means James will be home tonight for the entire evening, so I can look forward to an evening of serving him alcohol and listening to his constant criticisms.

As I get closer to the Post Office, I am reminded of the reason why I was originally so excited to be coming into town today. A delivery arrived on Saturday and I was unable to sign for it. I was home, but James was busy humiliating me. He found some creases in one of his shirts that he wears to work, I was made to wash all of the items in his wardrobe and all of our linen by hand in ice cold water. My fingers are so red and cracked now, they are incredibly sore. Thinking back I'm actually pleased he was preoccupied with 'educating' me, because my punishment would have been so much more severe if he saw my parcel. I didn't usually get items delivered to the house, but this was a necessary exception.

Clutching the 'sorry you were out card' I push open the door to the Post Office, the small bell above the door rings as I stride up to the service counter. My face falls as I realise it's Joan at the serving hatch and not her gentle, patient and considerably less nosey husband Norman.

"Good Morning Isabella, how are you today?" chirps Joan, she owns the Post Office and is also a full-time maintenance engineer for the local rumour mill.

"Oh… I'm very well, thank-you Joan. I've just stopped by to collect my delivery. Here's the card." I speak politely yet hurriedly and slide the card through the gap under the counter.

"Ah yes, I remember when this parcel came in the other day." She announces, brandishing the parcel and waving it around, teasing me, as my eyes follow the moving parcel praying she doesn't drop it or damage it in anyway.

Joan continues to prattle on "I said to myself, a delivery for Isabella Swan, must be something important as she never has deliveries. It's heavy mind, is it something expensive dear...? Something for the lovely Mr Swan dear…? Getting your Christmas shopping out of the way early are we…?" She shakes the package trying to ascertain its contents.

I wouldn't be surprised if Joan has already steamed the package open and checked for herself to see what the contents are. I am anxious to get my hands on the parcel. "Umm, it's really nothing special Joan. Just a free book from the Readers Digest I think!"

Separated from the parcel by a mere pane of glass I itch to prise it from Joan's old gnarled hands, my mind begins to conjure up murderous thoughts, completely unaware that Joan is even still talking…"have you seen that the old Robert's place has been sold dear? I don't envy whoever has bought it. They'll have a huge job on their hands."

"Isabella…have you heard a word I've said?" Joan waves her hand in front of my face.

"Uh…yes!" I shake my head "Sorry Joan…I just have so many other errands to run today – please, can I just have my parcel?"

"Of course – I'm sorry to waste any of your precious time." Joan viciously stamps the card and slides the parcel under the counter towards me, whilst mumbling something about manners and wishing that she could be a lady of leisure and have a husband as lovely and attentive as mine.

My cheeks flush as tears spring to my eyes, her words cut right to my heart, if only she knew the half of it. I grab the parcel and almost run out of the Post Office to the nearby bench. I sit and close my eyes breathing deeply, holding back the tears that threaten to fall. As I open my eyes they linger on the boards outside the newsagent which displays today's headlines. One such headline catches my eye, I dash into the shop and grab a copy of the newspaper, quickly leafing through until I reach page 5;

_WIDOWED AUTHOR COMES OUT OF RETIREMENT  
FOR FINAL FICTIONAL FORRAY_

The renowned author E.A.M Cullen  
has announced that he is temporarily coming  
out of his self-imposed retirement to  
complete the final instalment of his successful  
romance series The Magdalen Saga.

Cullen, withdrew from the spotlight in late  
2004 after the untimely death of his wife.  
Originally a suspect in the enquiry into his  
wife's death, his name was later cleared  
and the cause of death was reported as suicide.  
Recent details about where Cullen is residing  
are still unknown as he now leads a  
somewhat reclusive and isolated lifestyle.

A limited re-print last month, of his earlier books in  
Collector's Edition Hardback have been  
received extremely well both in the UK and abroad.

I smile to myself, knowing that in my hands I clutch a limited edition set of the very saga the article refers to. I am overflowing with happiness as I put the newspaper back and almost float out of the shop. The great author E.A.M Cullen will be writing another novel – _hmm I wonder if they'll update the eye-candy in the front sleeve. _

****

With all of the chores complete and a window of at least 2 hours before James is due home, I settle down in the spare bedroom and carefully open the package I collected from the Post Office this morning. Sliding a finger under the tape and peeling back the brown parcel paper, I slowly unwrap the book that I have saved for, over the last three months. I stroke my hands across the smooth glossy paper of the book jacket and revel in the feel of the firm and heavy hardback as it nestles in my hands. Bringing the book up to my nose I close my eyes and breathe deeply. A heady mixture of ink and paper assault my nostrils as I hum with joy.

Opening the cover - I'm careful not to crack the spine, it's one of my pet hates and the sole reason I never lend my books to friends – not that _he _lets me see any of them anymore.

On the inside cover is a more recent picture of E.A.M Cullen, his face looks thinner and older than in my previous editions, dark circles present under his eyes… but he is still heart-stoppingly handsome. Although the picture is black & white, I know that he has the most beautiful piercing green eyes, and a shock of messy bronze hair that I am just dying to run my fingers through.

I lean back on the bed, closing my eyes and clutching the book to my chest, I drift off into the sweetest sleep, with a content smile on my face. Dreaming of my life as though I were a character in an E.A.M Cullen novel.

*****

I shake my head groggily as I look around the spare bedroom, I'm confused and complete disorientated – how did it get to be so dark? I check my watch – SHIT! I've been asleep for just under two hours… shit, shit, SHIT!

I feel my hands begin to shake and I wipe them on my trousers, my breath comes in gasps and I feel myself starting to panic. Beads of sweat break out across my forehead. Relax Bella! There's still time to get everything done, there'll be something you can prepare quickly for dinner, your make-up won't take long. I squared my shoulders and smooth the bed so that it will not be obvious that I fell asleep. He hates me to slack off in the day when he isn't around.

I tuck in the sheets and feel positive that I can escape this current misdemeanour unscathed when I hear the front door open…

It's too late!

"Isabella…?"

"Isabella"

"ISABELLA" James bellows.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention and I struggle to suppress the whimper that wants to burst forth from my mouth. My whole body starts to shake.

"There had better be a FUCKING…GOOD…REASON why you're not at the door to greet me" he roared.

"Or so help me, there will be consequences!" I can almost hear the evil smile in his voice.

I nervously tuck the book away in its hiding place, and run down the stairs to meet the wrath of the monster that awaits me.

**A/N** Here are some definitions, if I have used any other words people are unfamiliar with please let me know! Please review, it'll cheer Bella up, like you wouldn't believe.

_Scrump, v.- __trans._ _To steal (apples), esp. from orchards.  
Drayman, n.- _ _A man who drives a dray (in England, usually a brewer's dray)._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n: Thanks to everyone that has been enjoying this story, I can see that lots of people have been reading but not leaving reviews. Please let me know what you think of this story. Even if it is just to tell me why you won't be reading it again!**

**Thanks to BelleOfTheBook and Redsock for their reviews - you probably don't realise how much I love getting them and it really encourages me to keep writing. **

**All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, I'm just having fun with them in Blighty!**

It is a blustery day, large white fluffy clouds are floating overhead and it is unseasonably warm, a perfect washing drying day I muse to myself. I try not to wince while hanging out the last few items of washing. Last night's "corrective" beating is still fresh in my mind, the deep belt cuts on my back keep catching on the cotton of my blouse, the pain is almost too much to bear.

The wind whips around my legs making me shiver, the blouse and fitted skirt he put out for me to wear today leaves me exposed and is entirely inappropriate for the chores he has me carry out. I huddle into my oversized cardigan, pulling it closer as though it were a suit of armour, I shut my eyes tightly as I instantly regret the movement. I breathe deeply through the pain that those few swift actions creates. I finish hanging out the washing and dash into the house as quickly as I can in my current state.

Later, as I curl up in the armchair in the living room, my new book resting on my lap I notice a removal van pulling up; it seems the new neighbours might be moving in. I wonder if it is a family, some young children really would be a joy, although I wont be able to interact with them – _another of his ridiculous stipulations_ – at least I might still be able to watch them from afar. James can't give me children, he's infertile, for which I am deeply grateful as I could never knowingly bring a child into the dysfunctional home-life that we have.

I rise from my seat and wander over to the window, peering out through the Venetian blinds, my body in the shadows so that I cannot be caught spying. I observe, two men in uniform get out of the rather large van and wander up the path to the house, they seem to be alone and have a key.

Over the next hour or so, various items of furniture are ferried into the house; a grand oak Welsh dresser, a beautiful mahogany bureau and a wine-bottle green coloured leather studded wingback chair are among the more antique pieces of furniture. Interestingly, there are also some extremely contemporary objects, an Arne Jacobsen chair, an Ashby & Boyle coffee table and a black DecodeLondon coat stand. The final item of furniture they struggle with is an extremely impressive Steinway grand piano. No child-related paraphernalia, nor any members of the new household are present, the move is completely handled by the haulage staff. Sighing I return to the armchair and immerse myself in my book.

It's late, the moonlight shines through the crack in the curtains, and I'm sitting in the window-seat of our bedroom, my forehead rests against the window-pane, the cold glass keeping me awake. I am exhausted, a headache is forming in the back of my head at the nape of my neck, but the cuts and bruises on my back as well as my bedfellow are making it difficult for me to sleep. I tuck my nightgown around my legs and listen to the sound of James snoring _– I wish he'd choke on his own tongue_. His legs entangle in the blankets as he occupies far more than his fair share of the bed, forcing me to cuddle up to him should I decide to return.

As if accepting my fate I begin to rise, when I hear a car pull up outside. Checking that James is still deeply asleep I settle back down at the window and look out at the car. It's an Aston Martin I can tell that much, but unsurprisingly the model escapes me. My car knowledge only extends as far as the badge and colour. As the engine switches off and the headlights cut-out, the driver's side door opens, even though the light is limited I can make out the form of a tall, slender, muscular man.

He's wearing an army green military style jacket, the moonlight bounces off the brass buttons on the epaulettes. His facial features are impossible to see as a trilby sits atop his head, but I can clearly make out his strong jaw-line, which looks tense almost as though he is clenching his jaw.

He retrieves what looks to be an overnight bag from the car, shutting the boot loudly he quickly glances around as if to see whether anyone heard or is watching. He seems satisfied that he has gone unnoticed and confidently strides up to the house, reaching the front door he disappears from my view. I crane my neck and try to peer out but I can no longer see him. The car beeps and the headlights flash once to confirm that it is locked. I'm unable to see the front door of the neighbour's house, but the soft-click of the door shutting is my indication that the evening's brief entertainment is over.

It seems strange that the new neighbour has chosen to move in under the cover of darkness. I hope that I get to see him tomorrow, I wonder if he lives alone or he is preparing the house for the arrival of his beautiful cosmopolitan wife. Judging by his taste in material goods he clearly has a more than comfortable amount of money.

I pad quietly over to the bed and lie in a foetal position as far from James as the mattress will allow. I sleep without covers as I don't wish to wake him by tugging on them, he'll only want sex, or worse to spoon with me as we sleep, his face and nose burrowed in my hair. I shudder and pray he sleeps through the night without waking.

As I drift off to sleep, I think of possible excuses to strike up a conversation with the neighbour or some reason to pop round. I decide that tomorrow I shall bake him a cake, it's a neighbourly thing to do and a pastime I enjoy. A smile spreads across my face as I will the hours to pass and dream of the potential welcome break from the drudgery of tomorrow.

I kiss James on the cheek, hand him his suitcase and his extra strong coffee in an insulated travel mug as he is making his way out of the front door.

"You seem happy this morning Isabella, I hope this mood continues when I return from work" James comments.

"Oh, it's just such a beautiful day, it puts me in an upbeat mood" I lie, "I think I might give the garden some attention today."

"Just so long as you don't neglect your duties in the house Isabella. I have noticed that some areas are beginning to slip. I shall investigate further tonight and come up with a list of things for you." He leans forward pats my head and turns on his heel. _God I_ _bloody hate him sometimes._

"See you this evening James. The same time as usual?" I ask.

"Oh yes, Isabella, the usual time. Let's hope you don't forget this time, I wouldn't want you to spoil this evening for us both by requiring discipline." He sneers, a glint in his eye at the possibility of me screwing something up. He gets in the car and begins to pull out of the driveway as I shut the door.

I skip to the kitchen and begin to bake my world famous Bella's Lemon Drizzle cake. Well, it went down well at the local village fete when James made me bake last year. I only hope the new neighbour likes lemons.

The oven-timer pings letting me know the cake is ready, I set it on the cooling rack, I prick the cake all over and then sprinkle on the sugar, lemon rind and pour over the lemon and sugar syrup. The intoxicating smell of the lemon wafts up at me with the heat generated from the cake. I take in a large breath and look over my handiwork, the cake looks delicious if I do say so myself. I turn the cake out of its spring-form tin and place it in a container, leaving it on the kitchen worktop.

I visit the bathroom and check over my appearance in the mirror, my hair has been blow-dried straight and a little de-frizzing serum helps to calm down the errant hairs. My eyes are shining and my cheeks are a little flushed, I spray on some perfume, it smells of English roses.

I dash to the kitchen, grab the cake and walk out of the front door, closing it firmly behind me. Walking the short length of our garden, I turn left and walk to the neighbour's house. Opening the old wooden gate it creaks loudly on its hinges, I turn and close it behind me whilst juggling with the cake so as not to drop it. I pray that my clumsiness doesn't choose to present itself now.

I stride up to the house and grab the antique looking doorknocker and bang loudly on the door three times. I wait, and look around, the car from last night is still here. On closer inspection I can see that it has a champagne leather interior and what looks to be a very expensive stereo system.

I wait...

And wait...

_Where is he? I know he's in_, I glance at my watch, it isn't very early surely he can't still be in bed, this is the best part of the day – _well I am slightly biased as my favourite part of the day includes any hours that James isn't present for._

I decide to peer through the window and see if there is any movement, perhaps he's had an accident, fallen down the stairs and is lying unconscious at the foot of them in a crumpled heap. _God Bella! You need to keep your imagination under control._

Hmm, well it can't hurt to have a little look, I step off the threshold and move closer to the downstairs window to peek through. The windows are very dirty and I have to tiptoe to get a clear view, I can see some of the furniture from yesterday arranged around the living room.

I decide to leave the cake, but I'll write a note to leave with it. Reaching into my apron I retrieve the pen and paper I always carry in case James should call it's useful to be able to write down his mundane requests. I quickly scrawl a note 'Hello Neighbour! Please accept this cake as a welcome to the area, I hope you enjoy it and please call round should you need anything. Regards Isabella Smith' _Oh god I had better include that snake of a husband of mine as well_. I quickly append '& James Smith' to the end of the note.

I place the cake on the doorstep and use it to weigh down the note. All of a sudden a piano begins to play, the music is dark and macabre. My own sheer nosiness gets the better of me and I decide to sneak another look through the window. I pick up an old piece of log that is lying in the garden and move it closer to the window. Perching on the log I can see much further into the room. There in the middle of the room is the Steinway black Grand Piano, the man from last night is huddled over the piano playing, his slender fingers dance along the keys and his body seems tense, his shoulders hunched. He has his back to me, but I can clearly see his hair, it's unruly and bronze. _I know that hair from somewhere_! _but I can't think where_. I press my nose up against the dirty window pane so I can get a better view.

It all happens so quickly, I'm not sure what the cause is, but I suddenly feel the log slip out from underneath me. I grab onto the windowsill and let out a yelp of surprise. My head hits the window, causing a loud bang and the piano playing stops immediately. The man turns and stares out the window. His piercing green eyes meet mine and I stare open-mouthed. _It's him! It's E.A.M Cullen! _

This is all too much for me, my arms tremble and weaken and I land in a crumpled heap in the long neglected flowerbed.

I shake my head and look-up, feeling my heart-beat quicken, I hear the sound of someone running to the door and yanking it open. Before I have a chance to speak, he runs straight out of the house right into the cake in its container. The cake flips up in the air, almost completes a full somersault and lands upturned on the path, it looks as destroyed as I feel. At exactly the same time E.A.M Cullen trips up and lands flat on his _oh so perfect _derriere. He turns to glare at me and I recognise the look of pure anger and hatred in his beautiful green eyes. My shoulders slump as I realise it's so much like the look James gets when he is disappointed in me.

He stands and walks over to me "Why the fuck are you on my property?" He fumes breathing heavily, his hands tightly clenched into fists.

"And what the fuck do you think you're doing spying at me through the window?" he rises and begins to stalk towards me, every inch of his body screaming with rage.

I feel the hair on my arms and the back of my neck begin to prickle, I shut my eyes and whimper, wrapping my arms around my legs for protection as I feel him towering over me.

"I came here to get away from the fucking paparazzi and the media." He continues to rant "Not to mention the crazy stalker housewives!" he shakes his head.

"So come on, answer me! Who are you working for? What do you want an exclusive?" He steps closer to me with each accusation.

All of sudden, I feel his strong hands grip my shoulders and he lifts me from the ground, shaking me, as though that will make the answers come forth.

I look up into his eyes and finding the strength from somewhere I manage to speak "please..." I croak.

"Please don't hurt me, Sir."

**A/n: Please leave a review, it would be better than a slice of Bella's Lemon Drizzle Cake!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/n: OK so here is chapter 4. I hope it lives up to everyone's high expectations and is as involving as the previous 3 chapters.**

**I have a few people to thank: Redsock thank you for finding my story and pimping me on twitter and leaving me some of the nicest reviews. Snowqueens Icedragon, thank you for convincing me to write and post this, you're a great friend. Thanks to Incognito for their advice, support and just all-round general loveliness.**

**Finally a HUGE thanks to xoEMC for lending me her eyes and certifying this chapter as fit for posting!**

**All characters belong to S Meyer. **

**Enjoy!**

"Hurt you? Why would you think I would hurt you?"

He looks appalled with himself, sets me back on my feet, lets my shoulders go and takes a step back from me. _Come on Bella snap out of it! _There was no need to overreact like that, people get angry all the time; it doesn't mean they're like him. You mustn't be so jumpy; you'll be in so much trouble if people get suspicious of James. Lie now_ – and do it convincingly!_

"Y-you just seem so angry." I swallow thickly, instantly missing the feel of his rough grip on my shoulders; there is something strangely comforting about it.

Although it's somewhat awkward, I cannot actually believe I am engaging in a conversation with E.A.M Cullen. The very same E.A.M Cullen whose books I have stashed in a hidey-hole in our spare room. The man I fantasise about on a regular basis is here, now, shouting at me.

This...is...amazing! If not somewhat panic-attack inducing.

I wonder if he'll sign my latest purchase. Oh, he really is just so close, I want to reach out and run my fingers through that unruly bronze hair, mmm he looks like he would smell delicious. I feel my eyes close and a dreamy look flitters across my face as I daydream about this god-like man. _Wait!_ What did he say about 'crazy stalker housewives', I'm sure I heard that somewhere in his tirade_ – crumbs! I'm one of them! _If I want to keep him talking – _which I do _- I must pretend I don't know who he is. _Oh God this is going to be so difficult, I really am an awful fibber and one of his biggest admirers. _

"I-I didn't mean to invade your privacy. I live next door and I came round to introduce myself and welcome you to the area..." I motion with my head in the direction of our house and fidget nervously. "I made a cake for you." I point at the clear container that sits perfectly intact on the porch, the cake inside however, looks as though it has been in a particularly nasty fight. I watch his facial expression soften from his previous grimace, to a look of sheer embarrassment as my words sink in. It seems he believes I don't mean him any harm.

"I didn't mean to spy on you." I ramble on. "But I heard the piano playing and I was intrigued. Then I stupidly hit my head on the window and now here we are." I motion between us with my hands to indicate the situation we now find ourselves in. _Bella,_ _please stop speaking._

I watch him, waiting to see how he will respond. I clasp my hands together so that he can't see them shaking. It takes every single ounce of control I have to stop myself from squealing in excitement and running around the garden like a headless chicken.

Suddenly the beautiful man decides to speak again. "My God! I'm such an arse! I'm so sorry, are you ok?" He shakes his head as though he is mortified. I nod that I am fine and he continues to speak "I'm feeling a bit hounded at the moment and I'm afraid I grossly overreacted, when I saw you looking through the window. I just assumed the worst." He extends his right-hand towards me.

"Let's start again? I'm Edward, Edward Cullen." His voice is much softer now; his words feel like a warm blanket wrapping themselves around me. _Oh Edward, I know exactly who you are! _I mentally fan myself and try not to swoon.

Looking directly into his eyes I take his hand and shake it lightly. His skin is so soft. I feel a comfortable warmth spread throughout my whole body. His touch feels like returning home after a long absence; it feels new and delicious yet familiar and dependable at the same time. I become distracted with thoughts of how wonderful his hands would feel on other parts of my body, entangling in my hair and then sliding down my back stopping to cup my backside as he kisses me deeply. _Whoa there Bella!_

"I'm Bella Smith. It's lovely to meet you, even if it is under somewhat unconventional circumstances." I square my shoulders and raise my chin – _yes Bella, not James' Isabella! _I wait for him to speak again.

"So, you made me a cake?" Edward smiles, lets go of my hand and walks towards the container. I instantly miss the contact and I clutch my right-hand to my chest _– I wonder how long is too long, to go without washing my hand?_ He bends gracefully and lifts the cake up to eye-level so he can take a closer look. I watch as he stares at the cake, as if scrutinising and intimidating the cake will make it reveal it's flavour. The look of sheer concentration on his face makes me giggle. He turns to look at me and cocks one of his perfectly formed eyebrows; his face cracking into an amused half-smile. A few strands of his bronze hair fall forward to cover his forehead. _Oh my, surely it's dangerous for someone to be that attractive._

"It was, a lemon drizzle cake." I shrug and struggle to keep the disappointment from my voice. Edward stows the cake under his left arm and starts walking towards the front door. He turns and looks over his left shoulder at me. "Well, aren't you coming Bella? There's cake to be eaten." He grins broadly at me and rattles the container. I nervously look around me to see if anyone is watching. If James finds out that I have been talking to another man, he'll be so angry. He gets so jealous and possessive at times. I find myself stuck to the spot, unable to decide whether to follow Edward. I should just make my excuses and go home, I can tell James I bumped into the neighbour and no harm will be done. Oh but I do want so badly to talk more with Edward.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the note I wrote earlier lying on the porch, I quickly snatch it up and follow Edward into the house. _I'm sure I'll think of something to tell James._

I am in Edward Cullen's kitchen and I am struggling to suppress my excitement. I try not to fidget while I sit on one of the four oak chairs at the kitchen table. Unsurprisingly it hasn't changed much since I was here last with Mrs Roberts. Well, he has been here less than 24hours. I watch him move around the room, clearly looking for all the necessary implements to make a decent cup of tea. Eventually he settles on a saucepan having clearly given up any hope of locating the kettle. He fills it with water from the tap and puts it on the hob to boil.

As I watch him navigate the kitchen I commit his physique to memory, strong broad shoulders and a muscular back can be seen through his lightweight grey marl cotton t-shirt. At the front I know there are two small buttons at the neck of the t-shirt and a tiny amount of chest hair can be seen bursting forth. Trailing my eyes down his scrumptious body I settle on his lower half, a brown leather belt holds up his black Levis. They fit perfectly on the bum and flare slightly at the knee, as I finish my visual journey of his body I settle on his feet. He's wearing a pair of black Converse All Stars. So casual, sexy and approachable -- the polar opposite of James' cheap high polyester count suits.

Edward turns to stare at me. I feel myself blush under his gaze and I lower my eyes ._I can't let him know, that I know who he is. He'd never have me in here again if he thought I was an obsessed fan. _He waves a hand in-front of my face "Bella? I said would you like milk and sugar in your tea?"

"Umm, milk 2 sugars?" It comes out sounding like a question. Edward looks momentarily confused, but shakes his head and carries on with the tea-making. I don't normally have sugar, James says I'll get fat. This is my attempt at a minor act of rebellion and it feels quite refreshing.

Edward grabs two plates that do not match and sets them down next to the cake on the kitchen table that separates us. He takes the lid off the container and begins to spoon out two small mounds of cake crumbs. _I feel like such a failure. The cake looks pitiful._ He brings a huge spoonful of cake to his mouth and chews slowly. He licks the spoon clean and pulls it out of his mouth with a loud pop. I watch as he closes his eyes and makes a guttural sound of pure pleasure. I feel a warm tingly feeling between my legs and I shift slightly in the chair, almost desperate for some friction. _Is it me or did it just get hotter in here?_ I feel myself flush from the neck upwards and when he next speaks I almost jump.

"Bella, it may look like shit as a result of my clumsiness, but this cake is fucking gorgeous." I cringe slightly at the ease with which he swears, yet I cannot help but feel my chest swell with a sense of pride at his compliment. I smile at him, about to thank him, when the hissing sound of the saucepan boiling over interrupts us.

After he has cleaned up the mess, Edward places a cup of tea in front of me. I nod my thanks, raise the cup to my mouth and blow on the hot sweet liquid gently. My knuckles whiten as I grip the cup and decide to be brave, asking the only question I care about the answer to. "So Edward...do you live here alone or is there a Mrs Cullen that plans on joining you?" I watch as the spoon of cake he was about to put in his exquisite mouth hovers in mid-air. _Oops. Maybe that was a step too far Bella.,_ I know his previous wife committed suicide, but I assume there has been someone else since her; he's too adorable to be single.

"Ah!" he makes a strange choking sound and drops the spoon, it clatters loudly as it hits the plate. "My wife, died a few years ago, there hasn't been anyone else since." I immediately feel awful.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't realise." I lie, leaning forward and boldly reaching out to rub his fore-arm lightly. The warm sensation briefly returns and Edward looks up at me and smiles sadly. I feel tears of sympathy forming at the corners of my eyes making them glisten.

"Honestly Bella, it's fine. Thank you for your concern, but it's unnecessary." His body language changes suddenly and he becomes withdrawn and rigid, a sharp edge to his voice tells me the discussion is over. I withdraw my hand quickly, it feels as though it has been burnt. He pushes back the chair loudly, the legs screeching against the flagstone flooring and rises from the table and walks over to one of the kitchen counters. Standing with this back to me he grips the worktop so tightly his knuckles go white. "Thank you for the cake Bella, but I think it's time you should be going. I trust you can see yourself out." He says all of this with his back to me, his voice a controlled monotone, but I can see his shoulders shake like he is trying to hold back a sob. I nod in answer to his question and then realise he cannot see me.

I nervously clear my throat, "O-of course Edward. It was lovely to meet you and I hope I haven't upset you." I don't wait for a response and make my way to the front of the house. Unless it's my ever-present overactive imagination, I swear I can feel his eyes on me as I make my way down the hall, but I'm too much of a coward to look round.

As we settle down to a supper of salt beef, cauliflower cheese and green beans in a garlic sauce, James enquires about my day. "I didn't get up to anything outside of the usual today James. I bumped into the new neighbour. He seems pleasant enough." At this James' interest seems to pique.

"The new neighbour has arrived? I noticed the Vanquish, but just assumed it belonged to the Estate Agent. So how old is he?" I reluctantly answer James' questions about the neighbour, feeling protective of the information I gathered today.

"I think he's in his early 30s, it's hard to tell as we barely spoke." I lie, praying that Edward doesn't return that damn container at any point while James is around.

"Hmm, I'll have to see if he wants to come down The Carlisle for a pint sometime, welcome him to the area properly and introduce him around. With a car like that he's obviously wealthy. He could be a useful person to get to know." James looks at me expectantly, his eyebrows raised. "Well what do you think Isabella, shall I ask him?"

"Yes James, if you think that would be best." I put a forkful of food in my mouth barely tasting it. I feel slightly nauseous at the thought of Edward and James becoming friends. I want Edward to be my friend, not James'. "Perhaps we could have him round for dinner one night, you could cook a roast." James seems happy with this idea and continues to tuck into his meal. "Perhaps I'll go round after dinner and extend an invitation." He says with a mouth full of food. Oh no! If Edward mentions that he met me today and we had tea I will be in so much trouble. _Oh god why did I lie?_ I gulp anxiously, maybe if I can speak to Edward first I'll be able to explain and he'll go along with my lie.

"Oh I'm sure he'll be busy tonight, maybe you should wait until tomorrow to ask, it is starting to get late." I try to make my voice sound impassive.

"Nonsense Isabella, it's hardly late. I shall go round after dinner and introduce myself." My shoulders droop and I struggle to finish my food.

I pace up and down the kitchen nervously. James left the house a few minutes ago to go and see if Edward would like to come for dinner one night. I pray that Edward doesn't tell James about what happened today, James will be livid if he thinks I have lied to him.

I jump as the front door opens and I grab a cloth and pretend to be wiping down the kitchen side.

James wanders into the kitchen with an unreadable expression on his face.

I hold my breath, waiting for James to speak…

**A/n Oooh I wonder what happened at Edward's! Leave me a review please :) I hope to be able to update weekly, I'm away this weekend so chapter will probably be a bit later next week. Thanks Flubs x**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/n: Thank you very much to everyone for all of the reviews, they really are great to read! Sorry for the cliffies, but hopefully it keeps you coming back for more.**

**The characters of Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer, but Edward and Bella from Blighty are all mine! Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 5

"He isn't home, though the car was there. I took the liberty of having a good look at it. He really does have some serious money." James continues to talk, a hint of the 'green-eyed monster' clearly audible in his voice. _Oh thank God Edward wasn't home!_ I find myself saying a silent prayer and pretending to listen as James prattles on.

Having finished assessing Edward's wealth aloud, James addresses me directly. "Can you call round tomorrow Isabella and invite him for dinner on Friday night? What did you say his name was again?" James looks at me expectantly. _I hate it when he focuses all of his attention on me. _

"I'm sure he said his name is Edward Cullen." I answer, trying to appear nonchalant. "Of course I can call round tomorrow. That wouldn't be a problem at all. Perhaps I could bake something to welcome him to the area?" _I'll have to get the container back and try and get some sort of story straight with Edward_.

"Well, as long as it doesn't slow down your progress on the list of chores I gave you. It's been at least a fortnight since you last cleaned the windows inside and out. It's meant to be a clear day tomorrow as well." James waits for me to agree with his observations. I decide to take a chance.

"Do you really think the windows need doing? They look fine to me." I speak quietly and look at my feet.

James sighs heavily and begins to speak "Isabella, we've been over this before. Your standards are much lower than mine and if it wasn't for me this house would be a mess! You need me to keep an eye on things so that you can stay on top of them." He crosses the kitchen towards me and wraps an arm around my shoulders; tucking me into his side, his chin resting on my head. "Don't worry your pretty little head about whether something needs doing. I'll make decisions like that for you." He squeezes me tightly and then trails his hand down my back to smack my bum playfully. Leaving my side he wanders towards the front room whilst calling over his shoulder "Can you bring me a beer please, Isabella. I'll be in the front room."

"Yes, James. I'll just be a minute." _Well it was worth a try_, _I really feel like stamping my feet and throwing a tantrum_. _Looks like the windows have gone straight to the top of my list tomorrow!_ I uncap the beer and decant it into a glass, resisting the urge to spit in it _– don't lower yourself to his level Bella!_

_x-x-x-x-x  
_

Sporting my housewife uniform of yellow marigolds and an apron, I struggle with a bucket of warm soapy water as I scramble up the ladder to reach the top floor windows at the rear of the house. Annoyingly he was right, it is a perfectly clear day and the sun is so nice and warm on my skin. If only I could be outside under a different set of circumstances – _like_ _lounging on chair, wearing a sunhat, reading my book and sipping a glass of chilled elderflower cordial. _

Dipping the rag in the bucket, I wring it out and lather up the window. Then tip-toeing and overstretching dangerously I manage to reach the top of the window with the squeegee. I hate this job more than all of them put together and I'm sure James knows this. I don't see why we can't just pay someone to clean the windows. _ Moaning about it won't get the job done Bella._ I force myself to finish cleaning the windows and then I will go and see Edward. _It'll be a sort of treat, something pleasant to look forward to after such a thankless task._

I descend the ladder clumsily and reposition it, so that I can clean the other upstairs window. Just as I am about to start, I hear a voice calling out to me.

"Bella! Do you really think you should be up there? It doesn't look very safe." I recognise his voice immediately and find the hint of concern it holds to be flattering. I look down and off to the left to see Edward, standing at the beginning of the small orchard in his garden. He's craning his neck so that he can see me and one of his perfect hands is shielding his eyes against the sun.

"Oh, yes thank you Edward. It's fine. I clean the windows like this all the time." I plaster a smile on my face and try to make my voice sound upbeat so it doesn't give away a hint of what I am really feeling.

"If you're sure. But between you and me, I thought your windows looked perfectly clean before you started." Edward states with a small shrug. _Hmph! Typical! If only James were around to hear him say that!_

I grit my teeth and with my back to him I shout, "Well up close they really were quite grimy." I finish the final window with a flourish and make my way down the ladder. When I get to the bottom I look round and Edward is still watching me. He's leaning on the short garden fence that separates us, wearing a lightweight jumper, his hair peaking out from underneath a baseball cap. I slowly remove my gloves and apron, smooth my hair and walk over to him.

"I was meaning to pop round and speak to you today." I say.

Edward looks bashful, "Oh?"

"Yes, I wanted to apologise if anything I said yesterday, upset you." I fiddle with the hem of my cardigan, my eyes downcast. I continue "And I wanted to ask if you are free on Friday night, to have dinner with myself and James, my husband." When I finish speaking I look up at him, he's smiling and watching me intently.

"Firstly Bella, you didn't upset me. I'm sorry for how I reacted. I still struggle to...," Edward clears his throat before continuing, "talk about Tanya." I open my mouth to speak again, but Edward holds up his left hand to stop me.

"It's something I need to work through; it was a long time ago now and I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable." I nod my thanks at him and smile sadly, feeling awful for his loss._ She clearly was the love of his life_.

He continues, "And, I would love to come for dinner on Friday. If your cake is anything to go by, I would be a fool to pass up the opportunity of a home-cooked meal made by Bella Smith." He smiles warmly at me and I blush at the compliment. _He remembered my full name._

Uncomfortable with all of the attention, I decide to change the subject. "So what are you planning to do with the garden?"

"Well I'm actually a huge Cider and Perry enthusiast, so I was thinking of getting the orchard going again and then producing my own." His eyes light up and he looks at me expectantly.

"Oh Edward that's a wonderful idea. I adore Cider and Perry. Decent ones are so hard to get hold of! I've been known to fall victim to the odd pint or three in the past!" I giggle and look at Edward.

"Now that I would like to see! You'll have to taste my first creation. "He says chuckling. His words excite me. _Does this mean he wants to spend more time with me? I need to keep the conversation going._

"Do you have any idea what varieties you are going to grow? I love gardening." I smile at him, eager for more information.

"To be honest, no. I have an idea of some of the flavours I like. But it's all fairly undecided at the moment. Maybe you'd like to help me? I could use another pair of hands and someone with horticultural knowledge would be a great advantage." He becomes more animated as he talks, as though he'd be mute if he couldn't use his hands. I love watching him speak.

"Oh Edward, that sounds wonderful. I'd love to help you with the orchard." I'll have to check with James first. Perhaps I could mention it at dinner on Friday. If I put James on the spot, surely he'd be forced to agree.

"That's settled then, we'll have to draw up some sort of calendar to fit in when we are both free." Edward seems happy with this development and I am giddy with excitement at the possibility of spending huge chunks of time with this wonderfully interesting man, working on something I adore that has nothing to do with James.

Slyly checking my watch I realise that the day is running away with me and I still have so much to finish before James returns. As much as it pains me, I'm going to have to cut short this conversation with Edward, without seeming rude.

"Ah, yes I must be keeping you from your windows." He grins at me. He must've seen me check my watch. _Not as sly as you thought there Bella. _

"Thankfully that was the last set; I do have a few other things to get on with." Reluctantly, I take a couple of steps back from the fence. "So about Friday, would you be able to come for dinner at 7.00?"

"Yes that's perfect. Can I bring anything? A bottle?" Ordinarily I don't like wine, but I'm sure he has exquisite taste.

"A bottle of wine would be lovely. " He nods his head and begins to step away from the fence.

"Excellent, I'll see you on Friday at 7.00pm sharp!" He starts to make his way further into the orchard, when it suddenly occurs to me that I haven't asked him the most important thing; the main reason for talking to him today.

"Edward?" I call out to his retreating back, praying that the desperation in my voice isn't too obvious.

"Yes Bella?" He shouts, turning and beginning to walk back towards me, looking at me expectantly.

"The tea and cake yesterday..." I look at him and trail off nervously, he waits for me to continue. "Can we keep that just between you and me? I-I...don't really want James finding out." I hold my breath as I wait for him to reply.

He looks confused and tilts his head to one side. "Umm sure. But...can I ask why?"

"You can ask..." I answer him quietly. "But, I'd prefer it if you didn't...because I wouldn't know how to answer you." I look down at my feet sadly _–please don't cry Bella. _

I hear the sound of leaves rustling as he seems to be shuffling them with this feet, it seems to take forever before he answers "Of course Bella. It'll be our secret."

When he says this, I look up at him, the relief clearly evident on my face. "Oh thank you so much Edward. That's such a weight off my mind!" He smiles softly and I think I see a hint of pity in his eyes but I can't be sure. I turn and begin to gather my window cleaning items and prepare to make my way into the house. I assume Edward has made his way further into the orchard, but it's not until I hear his voice that I realise he must have been watching me this entire time.

"Bella, what's your maiden name?" He calls out to me.

I spin round quickly to look at him, completely caught off-guard by his question. "It's Swan. Why?"

He grins broadly at me "No reason!" he answers and winks. "I'll see you Friday. I'm looking forward to it." He shouts to me as he turns and walks away, effectively ending the conversation. I drop the items in my hands to the ground and wrap my arms around myself and squeal quietly. Edward is going to keep my secret and he wants to know my maiden name! _I don't know what the latter means, but at least I can breathe a little easier now._

_x-x-x-x-x_

Friday evening comes around so quickly it almost takes me by surprise. I have a beef joint roasting in the oven and the eggs are lightly poaching for our starter. I add the finishing touches to the hollandaise sauce and then remove my apron, hanging it on the back of the kitchen door. I have a few minutes before Edward is due to arrive, so I sneak into the downstairs bathroom to apply some lipstick and check on my reflection.

I am wearing my favourite ivory cashmere twinset with a string of my mother's pearls, a black pencil skirt with seamed stockings and _for James _a pair of stupidly high black patent heels. I apply a pale pink lipstick, some mascara to my eyes and run a brush through my hair quickly.

I hear the doorbell ring and rush out of the bathroom almost breaking an ankle in my excitement. James gets to the door before me. _Damn him! _I make my way to the hallway towards James' and Edward's voices as I hear them greeting each other.

"Ah here she is." James looks in my direction, his eyes surveying my appearance, he stretches out his right arm. I walk to his side and he puts his arm around my waist, _staking his claim, marking his territory, call it what you will_. "Isabella, I believe you and Edward have already met." I nod and look at Edward. He's dressed impeccably, wearing a white linen shirt, dark-wash jeans and a black blazer. In one hand he is holding a bottle of wine and in the other a bouquet made up of pink roses and white phlox intermingled with forest green fronds of fern. I remain mute, looking at the floor, waiting for one of them to speak, _I know my place._

"Edward will you join me in the front room? Isabella will come and get us when dinner is ready." James' arm drops from my waist and he motions towards the doorway. I feel Edward watching me the whole time.

"Yes, that would be lovely. I bought a bottle of Riesling, it's already chilled. I thought perhaps we could have a glass before we eat?" Edward offers the wine to James and looks at him expectantly. Normally James would make me open the wine and wait on the guests, but Edward hasn't given him much of an option.

"Certainly...I'll just get this open and I'll be right back." James stalks grudgingly into the kitchen, I can tell from his body language that he is angry. The corners of my mouth turn themselves up to form a slightly smug smile.

Edward whispers to me, "You look beautiful tonight. These are for you, but they pale in comparison." He extends the bouquet towards me. Tentatively I take the flowers from his fingers and lift them to my nose. I close my eyes and breathe deeply. They smell divine.

"Thank you Edward, you didn't have to. They're beautiful." I smile at him, overflowing with happiness.

"You're most welcome." He leans forward and whispers in my ear "So...its Isabella is it?" I jump a little, shocked by his proximity and I flush bright red as I feel the warmth of his breath on my ear, tickling my hair. He rocks back on his heels and grins at me waiting for an answer.

I am saved from answering by the sound of James cursing from the kitchen; _no doubt trying to find the corkscrew. _He then calls out to me through gritted teeth. "Isabella, darling. I think something needs your attention in the kitchen. I can smell burning."

I know nothing is burning. _He just wants to talk to me alone, redress the balance, remind me of my place and generally reaffirm who is in charge around here_. "Just coming James!" I call out to him. "Edward please make yourself comfortable in the front room. One of us will join you in there shortly." I motion to the doorway, grateful as Edward begins to walk towards it.

"Sure, Bel-la." He overemphasises the syllables in my name and instead of sounding childish it comes across as cheeky. "Oh, and whatever you're cooking smells delicious to me. Not a hint of burning." He adds conspiratorially. I watch open-mouthed as he wanders into the living room and settles himself on the sofa, seeming completely at ease.

I don't know what has got into Edward, but I pray he doesn't call me Bella in front of James - _another error on my part, I must be more careful around him_.

I wander towards the kitchen to appease James, locate the corkscrew and add the finishing touches to dinner – _while also attempting to take my mind off the beautiful playful man sitting in the next room_.

* * *

**A/n: Is everyone ready for awkward dinner table conversations in the next chapter? **  
**Just to let you all know what marigolds are: www(dot)ketteringcleaningsupplies(dot)co(dot)?prod=HHY**

**I've had an area created for me on twilighted(dot)net for this story, check it out at: www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=9753&start=0&st=0&sk=t&sd=a&hilit=A+form+of+escapism**

**Please leave a review x  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/n: Some of the content within this chapter may be disturbing to some people of a gentle disposition. So please don't read on if you feel you may be easily offended. Ms Meyer owns it all! I'm just having a play around with the characters in England. Thanks again to the lovely xoEMC for betaing this chapter for me. I hope you enjoy it and thank you for all of the positive reviews I have received. **

Chapter 6

James stands in the middle of the kitchen; he looks like an already angry bull that has been antagonised further by having a red flag waved in his face. Clenching and unclenching his fists, he breathes heavily through his nose, his face reddens with the effort. The way he looks at me is reminiscent of the way a predator watches its prey right before pouncing.

Suddenly he's on me!

The solid, thick fingers of his right-hand wrap themselves around my neck and pin me against the nearest kitchen wall. It's not painful per se, just uncomfortable. _I've had worse. _

"Isabella," he snarls in a hushed tone, his face inches from mine. I can feel the unpleasant heat of his breath on my face, when he speaks a small amount of spit hits me. "You're making me look like a fool out there!" His fingers close slightly around my throat and he uses the force to tap the back of my head against the wall as he sounds out each word, enforcing his point further. "Why weren't you there to answer the door? You're useless, I wonder why I bother with you sometimes." He utters the last few words through his teeth and then releases his grip on my throat. I gasp in a lungful of air, the sudden oxygen making me light-headed. Taking a step back he straightens his shirt, inhales a few deep cleansing breaths and stares at me. His voice returns to his normal eerily calm tone, "Now." He pauses to glare at me, "Let's try this again shall we? I am going to join our guest in the other room, you will bring us a glass of wine each and then leave us so you can finish preparing dinner in here." He looks at me expectantly; I'm frozen to the spot, rigid from shock.

"Well Isabella…? Do you think even you can manage that..?"

I nod slowly, almost unaware that I am moving. Satisfied with my response he strides past me, stopping on his way to whisper in my ear "And sort your hair out, you look a fucking mess." He leaves the room to go and accompany Edward.

I walk straight to the drawer that I know contains the damn corkscrew and begin to open the wine, as I reach for the bottle I notice my hands are shaking. I drop the corkscrew loudly on the counter and clasp my hands together. Closing my eyes to hold back the tears, I tuck my head into my chest and take some extremely shaky calming breaths. _Please don't cry Bella, you'll get all blotchy and it'll be so obvious, you'll make him even angrier. There'll be time later to breakdown and let it all out, you just have to get through tonight._

I look around the kitchen desperately trying to be pragmatic and assess what needs to be done, I absentmindedly lift my hand and with feather-light touches I gently press my neck for any signs of tenderness. I hope there aren't any visible marks of what just transpired between James and me. I fix my hair as previously instructed, my trembling fingers smoothing the wayward strands, willing them to tow the line and go unnoticed by his meticulous eye.

Dejectedly I throw away the batch of eggs that were poaching, they're sure to be like bullets now, at least I bought two boxes - _I can get some things right_. I retrieve the recently concussed corkscrew and busy myself with opening the wine and pouring out two glasses. I lift the bottle to my lips and take a large swig in an effort to calm my frayed nerves._ It tastes delicious, just like I knew anything he chose would._ I brace myself to enter the next room, ready to pretend that the last five minutes didn't just happen.

x-x-x-x-x

As they both seat themselves at the table in the kitchen, I pour more wine for them and water for myself. I grab two of the plates from the counter, place one in front of James and the other before Edward. I keep my eyes downcast, watching my feet like they are the most entertaining thing I have ever seen.

I collect my own plate and sit at the table, staring at my portion of steamed asparagus, poached egg, Serrano ham and Hollandaise sauce_. I have never felt less hungry in my whole life._ I wait for James to speak, indicating that we can eat. I watch him lift his fork and take his first taste. I then force myself to eat. The food tastes offensive in my mouth, almost making me feel nauseous. My anxiety almost makes me wretch. I look between Edward and James; neither of them seems to notice my struggle.

"So Edward, what do you do to 'earn a crust' so to speak?" James arrogantly fiddles with the stem of his wine glass, whilst still chewing on a piece of ham._ He really does have disgusting table manners. _I watch Edward as he eats, you can tell he's used to fine dining, his manners are impeccable. Delicately slicing items on his plate, ensuring a piece of each flavour is on the fork before lifting it to his perfect mouth. He hums with pleasure as he chews. _My food caused that, it put that smile on his face! _

He finishes his mouthful of food before responding. "Well, depending on which circles you're in, I am known to be a reasonably successful freelance author." Edward answers with a comforting mix of confidence and humility. He turns to look at me, a gentle smile gracing his lips. "The food really is delicious, thank you Isabella." I nod my thanks at Edward afraid to speak, worried that my voice will crack if I speak aloud. _Oh he called me Isabella! Thank heavens the playful Edward from earlier is behaving now. Wait…Does this mean he heard what happened between James and me? I'll be mortified he heard my chastisement _

James taps his wine glass lightly with his hand and I notice it is empty, recognising his cue I refill the glass and then raise the bottle, hovering above Edward's own glass, silently asking if he would like more wine. He uses his hand to cover the glass and shakes his head slightly._ Hmm! How refreshing to be around someone who drinks for pleasure instead of necessity._

"Books eh?, What genre? Pay well does it?" James rudely presses for more details.

"Well, if the Booker Prize is anything to go by, I'm fairly good at what I do. I predominantly write contemporary fiction and romance." I note how Edward dodges the monetary aspect of James question.

"Romance? Bit floral isn't it Edward? You're not…you know, batting for the other team are you?" James winks lewdly. I cannot believe my ears!

"James!" I snort, the word leaves my lips before I realise I even said it out loud. James turns to look at me, shocked by my outburst. Edward is completely unruffled by James' line of questioning.

"And what do you do James?" Edward ignores James' intimations effortlessly, seeming to return the question out of politeness more than actual curiosity.

"Well, I am a big player in the world of plastics – there's a lot of interest in polymers at the moment you know." James answers smugly, clearly proud of his manly, testosterone-filled career in _plastics_. It looks as though Edward is choking on something or laughing. I can't be sure, he is using the wine glass as a cover.

"I have to…bow down to your superior knowledge James. I'm afraid I don't know very much about the world of…umm polymers you say?" I stifle a giggle, he is clearly mocking James and he has no idea.

I notice that everyone has finished their food and I rise to clear the plates, I am also trying to head-off the possibility of a lengthy one-sided conversation about the properties of plastics. Edward helpfully passes me his plate, his strong warm fingers brush mine lightly. His touch feels almost supportive, encouraging – _you can get through this meal, only two courses to go it'll be fine, Edward's here. _

"What about you Isabella…what's your vocation?" It's the first direct question Edward has asked me in front of James. I open my mouth to speak, but James cuts in and answers for me.

"Well, I find myself in a very fortunate position at this juncture in my career. As a result of my go-getter attitude and general blue sky thinking, Isabella doesn't need to work." I nod to indicate I agree with James' 'Management gobbledegook' and begin to stack the plates at the table. I don't know if its nerves or fear, but I accidentally drop some of the used cutlery, it clatters noisily on the hard laminate floor. I drop to my knees immediately to pick up the items. "Must you always be so clumsy Isabella!" James hisses at me under his breath.

I feel myself flush and mumble a quiet "I'm sorry James, Edward."

"No problem, happens to me all the time. Sometimes I wonder how I manage to make a cup of tea without needing a trip to A&E." Edward offers kindly. _Tea! Yes I've seen how he makes tea, it is a wonder he's still with us! _

I hear James huff quietly and I take that as my cue, I leave the table and put the plates into the sink. It's times like these I wish we had a separate kitchen and dining room, at least then I would be able to escape his ultra-critical eye for a few minutes.

x-x-x-x-x

Relief combined with trepidation swims through my veins, although the evening seems to be going rather well, part of me wants this awful night to be over, but another part of me is terrified about what might happen when Edward leaves. We're on the final course. Under normal circumstances I adore the velvety richness of vanilla cheesecake complete with its buttery, crumbly biscuit base. It usually sets my taste-buds alive, especially when I serve it with my mother's raspberry compote. Tonight, each bite of the painfully thin slice I served sits heavily in my stomach.

Throughout this uncomfortable dining process Edward and James have both tried to glean information about each other. Edward asks out of genuine interest, while James appears to be gauging Edward's financial portfolio and sexual orientation. Apart from my earlier outburst, I have kept as quiet as I possibly can without seeming rude to Edward. I find myself hanging on Edward's every word, when James speaks it feels like an unwelcome intrusion.

My interest piques when I hear the orchard come up in conversation, "I mentioned to Isabella today when she was cleaning the windows, that I'm thinking of getting the orchard that was planted by the previous residents, working again. I'm a huge cider and perry fanatic." James seems to have taken the bait, he shifts in his chair moving to sit upright, his obvious interest is confirmed by his body language. _Oh come on Edward if anyone can win James over you can. Reel him in!_

"Ah yes, Isabella has a keen interest in gardening, don't you darling?"

"Y-yes James I do love to garden. When are you looking to begin work on the orchard Edward?" I speak quietly and slowly in a controlled manner, selecting my words carefully.

"Very shortly, certainly in the next few days, it'll need clearing and then it will be time to start planting soon. Do you think you might be able to help me? It seems as though you know a lot more about gardening than I do." Edward looks at me, he seems almost hopeful. I so badly want to answer his question positively, but I wait and look to James. He seems to be mulling over Edward's question.

"Well, I don't see a problem with Isabella helping out a few afternoons a week." James looks at me. "Would you like that Isabella? Hmm?" I try not to smile too broadly as I don't really want James to be aware of how much I need this.

"That would be lovely, thank you James and thank you Edward for allowing me to help you." I look in Edward's direction and he is looking at me intensely, his jaw muscles look tense as though his jaw is clenched. Out of the corner of my eye I can see his right-hand is bound into a tight fist. _He's angry, oh no! What have I done? _I smile at Edward and he returns it with one of his own, but it doesn't reach his eyes and he doesn't unfurl his hand.

"So…Would anyone like coffee?" I ask in an effort to calm Edward. I look from James to Edward and wait for one of them to speak.

"Actually Isabella, it's still early so I was thinking Edward might like to come to The Carlisle for a pint and to meet some of the locals. What do you say Edward? There's a meat draw on a Friday as well." James rubs his hands together with glee. _Little does Edward know James won the joint of beef that was sacrificed for our dinner. _

"Thanks James, but honestly, I'm completely full and couldn't make room for anything else!" Edward pats his ridiculously slim, well-toned stomach as if to emphasise his point. _Nothing like James' paunch. _

"Are you sure? They have an amazing selection of ciders." James arches an eyebrow.

Edward acquiesces. "Ok, I'll come for one pint." He holds up the index finger on his left-hand to emphasise this. "Isabella would you like a hand clearing up before we all go?"

I am flabbergasted, Edward not only thinks that I am going to the pub with them, but he has just offered to help me clean-up. _This man is amazing! _

"Oh Isabella will be fine cleaning up, besides Friday night is boys night. Isn't that right Isabella?" James looks at me, waiting for me to verify everything he just said.

"Yes I'll be fine cleaning up. You two go out and have fun!" I begin to clear the table as if to prove my point, although it couldn't be further from the truth. _I'd love to go for a drink with Edward. _

x-x-x-x-x

I sit in bed, a book written by our dinner guest lying in my lap and a mug of sweet tea in my hands. The book is open at the picture of Edward, he is smiling up at me. Tonight I learnt that Edward has a brother called Emmett, who is a Large-animal Veterinary Surgeon in Tewkesbury, Gloucestershire and a sister called Alice, who owns a vintage clothing and accessories boutique in London; both are married, but neither have made Edward an uncle yet. His parents are retired and live a short-drive away in Oxford; he seems very close to all of his family. I'm so envious of him, to have such a full and vibrant family.

I take a sip of my tea, the hot sweet liquid swirling around my mouth pleasantly. I muse over the events of tonight, I wonder why Edward's fist was clenched at dinner? _Was he angry with me? Or James? _I know I was quiet at dinner, but it really was necessary, I think Edward seemed at ease.

There are still plenty of things to be thankful for, tonight ended more positively than I could've hoped. I'll be assisting Edward in the orchard, James has no idea about our previous interactions…_oh and thankfully the poached eggs had a runny yolk for the starter. _

As I drain the last of the tea from the mug I hear James come in the front door, I stiffen in bed and wait for him to come upstairs._ He's bound to be pissed._

He stumbles through the door and clumsily traverses the room. He falls and lands on the bed next to me, he lies on top of the covers and puts his head in my lap. Looking up at me, his big blue eyes seem cloudy with drunkenness, his pupils are lazily large. "Is-Isabella, I love you." He mumbles and looks at me expectantly waiting for an answer. _Normally when he's this drunk he doesn't remember anything that is said. _"Well…do you love me Is-is-abell.." he trails off...

"Yes, James of course I love you." I answer automatically, the words spilling forth without any feeling behind them. He smiles up at me, satisfied with my answer.

"You looked…beautiful tonight Bells and the dinner you cooked, was…was delicious." My eyes widen with shock, he hasn't called me Bells in months! _Why can't he say these sweet things to me when he is sober, they would have so much more gravitas. _James looks at me, smiling sadly, I see a glimpse of the man I dated and not the one I married. He looks so young and lost when he's like this.

"You won't leave me…will you Bells? You're happy here with me aren't you?" I look at him and consider my answer carefully.

I start to speak softly, "On a basic level James I'm somewhat happy. I have food, clean clothes, my health and a roof over my head." I look at him, he still appears to be awake and listening. "But, you need to stop trying to control me James. Ordering me around all the time, not to mention your violent display in the kitchen." I feel myself getting stronger with each word and I determine to tell him how I really feel.

He reaches up a hand gently and strokes my neck, "I'm so sorry I hurt you, are you ok? Sometimes you really know what to say to antagonise me and I just see red." I relax slightly into his delicate touch as it unlocks a whole batch of more pleasant memories that I have of James stored away in my mind.

"You need to get help James. You need to talk to someone about your anger issues. We can work through this together."

"I know I've said it before Bells, but it'll be different this time. First thing Monday I'll go to the doctors, I'll get help. I won't ever hurt you again, just please, please don't leave me…Promise?" He wraps his arms tightly around my waist and sobs into my lap. I stroke his hair gently.

"I won't leave you James."

"Promise..?"

"Yes. I promise."

I turn out the light and continue to stroke James' hair, he falls into a drunken slumber and begins to snore gently.

Tears slowly spill from my eyes.

Can we make it work this time? _Will he get help?_ _Will it really be different this time?_ _It's been better before, maybe it can be better again. _Mum and Dad always loved James. I remember when I was growing up, Mum and Dad had difficult times in their relationship. James seems quite reasonable compared to some of Charlie's outbursts. I wouldn't want to fail their memory by not really trying at my relationship with James.

It's different this time though, there's Edward too now. I know he won't feel the same way and I know nothing could ever come of it, but if I'm honest with myself…_I want to be more than just friends with Edward. _

**A/n please don't hate me! Leave me a review and let me know what you think...**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/n So, I'm not a huge fan of extremely long author's notes, but so many people out there are writing some impressive stories that I want to give them a shout out:  
Say Hello, Wave Goodbye **www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/5979914/1/** - by the lovely afoolishmortal  
An Angel Closes Her Eyes **www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/5880132/1/ **- by the highly entertaining tg10781  
Fill My Little World **www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/5986853/1/** by the Amazing Hongkongphooey  
A Matter of Trust **www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/5936854/1/** - by QuietRuby - this one pains me the most as she has so many more reviews than me, but hey go check out her brilliant story, there's enough love to go around.  
Last but by no means least, My Elevator Love Letter **www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/5863752/1/** by the wonderful pearl421**

**Also check out this amazing interview www(dot)tazz0617(dot)blogspot(dot) with Snowqueens Icedragon...one more chapter left of MOTU(sob), there better be a wedding, I've bought a hat…**

**Thanks to xoEmc for her amazing beta skills and for giving me her thoughts, so that I know if I'm on the right track. **

**Ms Meyer owns it all! I'm just having a play around with the characters in England. There aren't any scenes of abuse in this chapter. Please enjoy…**

Chapter 7

The weekend passes uneventfully; I notice some positive changes in James behaviour which makes me feel terrible for ever doubting him. We speak further about his actions towards me and how I feel around him, I'll be honest I hold some things back – _I'm no fool_. As I watch his car pull out of the drive, he waves to me; a tight, thin smile on his face. He assures me he'll make an appointment to talk to someone today. _All I can do is hope, hope for change and better times. _

Without the usual limitations of a list of chores, or the disapproving eye of James to watch over me, I decide to relax a little – _a girl could get used to this!_ Settling on the sofa, I lift up my legs, crossing them at the ankle and rest them on the arm. I reach my hand down the back of the sofa between the cushions. My fingers poke around, extending to their full length, the fingertips ghost over the spine of the well-worn book I hide down there. Stretching, I tug on the dog-eared paperback, roughly pulling it free. Usually I look after my books much better than this, but it's a very old duplicate copy that I hide here for rare times - _just like now._ Humming contentedly I snuggle down further and open Edward's book at the last page I was reading. _Oh yes, it's Edward now, no more E.A.M Cullen for me!_

A few chapters later and I'm completely immersed in the words on the page, despite having read this book so many times...

"Eep!" I squeal and nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of someone rapping on the outside of the front room window. I peer up over the top of the sofa. _Oh it's Edward._ _Shit! It's Edward. _I haven't spoken with him since Friday; I smile meekly at him and wave slowly. He holds up the Tupperware container as if to explain his reason for calling round. I hold up my index finger to indicate that I will be with him in just a minute. I roughly shove the book down the back of the sofa and dash to the front door.

Taking a deep breath I straighten my blouse and smooth out my skirt. I unlock the door and yank it open quickly. "Edward," I pant lightly. "So nice to see you again. Did you have a good weekend?"

I look up into his bottomless green eyes, my gaze lingering on his muscular lithe body on the way. _Oh! He looks like an Adonis, even in casual clothing. _He's sporting a pair of pale-wash denim jeans, a white cotton t-shirt and his feet are encased in a pair of brown leather biker boots. His hair is…_oh don't get me started on that delicious mop! _

"My weekend was…pleasant enough." He shrugs, his face unreadable. I find his answer puzzling, but I plough on.

"I see you've bought the container back." I motion towards his left-hand.

"Uh yes." Edward shakes his head lightly as if trying to clear it. "To be honest, the container was a bit of an excuse to call round really…I wanted to have a chat with you."

I cock my head to one side and look at Edward. He has a guarded look on his face and his stance indicates that something is bothering him.

"Ok…" Confused, I move to the side and motion for Edward to enter the house. "Would you like to talk over a pot of tea?"

"Yes Bella. I think that would be a good idea."

x-x-x-x-x

I place two matching cups and saucers on the table, a teaspoon on each saucer, a tea-strainer, small milk jug, bowl of sugar-cubes and lastly a pot of English breakfast tea. Pouring Edward a cup of tea, the strainer resting over the cup I invite him to begin speaking.

"So Edward, what did you want to talk about?" I slide his cup and saucer over to him, he takes it carefully and stirs some milk into it. A fleeting look at his face suggests he is deep in thought, hesitant about what to say next.

"Bella…this is tremendously difficult for me to say and if you think I'm speaking out of turn, please tell me to mind my own business." The words tumble of out Edward's perfect mouth, he seems almost nervous which is unlike him. I nod to indicate I have heard him and look down directing all my attention on pouring myself a perfect cup of tea. I stir in the milk and then add two cubes of sugar, I take no comfort in the familiar 'plopping' sound they make as they enter the velvety warm liquid. I stir the tea gently, tapping the teaspoon on the side of the china cup before placing it on the saucer. _I hope he doesn't want to discuss dinner!_

"Bella...t-thank you very much for dinner on Friday night. The food was wonderful," he continues.

"You're welcome Edward it was a pleasure to cook for you," I blush at his kind words.

He nods and clears his throat before continuing, "Perhaps I'm wrong…but I couldn't help notice some tension between you and James. Is everything alright?"

I feel Edward's concerned eyes boring into the top of my head, I sit watching my hands as they pick at imaginary threads on my skirt. _Anything to avoid looking into those beautiful eyes, those eyes that I know will be filled with pity!_

I gulp noisily, this is exactly what I was hoping he wouldn't want to discuss_ – why he must be so intuitive, he's nothing like ordinary men_.

Nervously, I tuck my hair behind my left ear, reaching for my tea I bring it to my lips and I blow on the hot liquid gently. I use the action to buy me a few seconds of time, so I can think of a suitably convincing answer that will satisfy Edward's growing curiosity and evident concern.

"Edward…I'm not quite sure I understand what you are alluding to. I can assure you that everything is perfectly fine between James and me. I don't know what I have done that would make you think otherwise." Edward is quiet, as if waiting for me to elaborate. I however choose to remain silent and continue to stare at my drink, unable to look Edward in the face. _Why, when James is trying to make a concerted effort to get better is Edward asking me this now! _

"Bella, I'm sorry I don't mean to speak out of turn, but some things have been bothering…no that's not the right word. Puzzling me…" Edward sounds like he has thought about this discussion in some detail as he deliberates over which wording I would find less insulting. I watch him run his finger around the rim of the teacup again and again…_it's very…distracting_.

Edward begins speaking again, his voice taking on a concerned yet slightly exasperated tone. It breaks me out of my trance.

"Bella, I'm aware I've only known you for a very short period of time. However, I've been asked, to keep it a secret from your husband that you baked me a cake, and I'm assuming you haven't mentioned that you ever visited me that day. I'm not allowed to call you Bella in front of him…It's, well, it's all very confusing!" Edward takes a sip of his tea to wet his throat and then licks his lips before he begins to speak again.

"But, the one thing that bothers me the most…" his voice drops to an almost whisper as he closes his eyes and continues to speak, "and it rankles me so much..." He reaches out and grasps my forearm which rests on the table next to my rapidly cooling cup of tea; I gasp, the contact startling me.

"He treats you like a possession Bella!" His voice sounds tight and exasperated, he continues, "answering questions on your behalf, talking to you as if you are stupid and ordering you around like a servant. You seem so meek in his presence, constantly seeking guidance and approval for your actions." He squeezes my arm once gently and then lets me go and runs a hand through his hair.

I am shocked into a stunned silence, in a few sentences Edward has just described the dynamics of what mine and James' relationship has been like – _Yes, past tense_. I feel light-headed and slightly nauseous. I thought I had been more careful at hiding our problems than this. Perhaps it's the writer in him that makes him so perceptive_. Or perhaps I have been so comfortable around Edward, that I've let my guard down and I've only myself to blame._

"Bella, please believe me when I say, I don't usually interfere in other peoples personal lives and I certainly don't warm to people as quickly as I have to you! Generally, I'm a borderline recluse." His hands go up in the air and a bitter chuckle escapes his lips. "I'm aware that I don't know you very well…but you seem so, delicate…and innocent, something about you makes me feel…_protective_ of you." He stresses the word protective and looks at me anxiously, his shoulders droop as though he is exhausted yet relieved to have all of the words out in the open. _Protective? Of me? Does he really think that my relationship with James is that strange? Is my life that dissimilar to other housewives..?_

I have no idea what to say, I'm warmed by Edward's concern, but based on his relationship history - _which has been made very public knowledge _- he is surely in no position to comment on or offer up his theories on my relationship with James_. _Especially, considering James is making a real effort to change and to get some help. I know we've had our difficulties, but I'm not ready to throw in the towel yet. _Charlie Swan always said, "Only quitters, quit!" _

I think we can still salvage something from our relationship. _Besides, what am I going to achieve confessing everything to Edward!_

I need to reassure Edward that everything is fine, so that he will feel comfortable around me again, I don't want to sabotage or taint our potential orchard time, I want us to be friends and I want to keep my husband – _I don't want to feel like I a failure! _

"Edward, thank you for your concern but it's not necessary really. James and I are fine." I speak confidently and look across at Edward.

"Are you sure?" Edward raises his eyebrows and doesn't look convinced.

"Certain." I nod firmly. "I mean like all couples we've had our difficulties. James is naturally quite a jealous person and so I thought it would be best to keep quiet the fact that I baked you a cake." I shrug and carry on, "When you came for dinner, James and I had a misunderstanding of sorts, which is resolved now. But I'm sorry we didn't do a better job of concealing it. I hope you didn't feel too uncomfortable?"

"No Bella, of course not! That's not what I meant. I feel like a complete fool now! You…you just seem so different around James compared to the time that I spend with you. Timid almost…"

Edward sighs and looks apologetic. "I'm sorry Bella. Just because I write about relationships, obviously doesn't mean I'm equipped to offer advice on them. I didn't mean to get it so wrong."

"Honestly Edward, please don't worry about it. I'm flattered by your concern. I don't know if it would reassure you to know but James is actually going to talk to someone about his jealousy."

I look at him reassuringly and pat his hand across the table. _Phew! I cannot believe I pulled that off convincingly. I do so hope that James does change this time. _"But if we really could keep that between you and me, I would appreciate that."

"Of course. I can't believe I got it so wrong!" Edward shakes his head and looks a little ashamed. "Well as long as you're sure everything is ok. But…please…think of me if you ever need someone to talk to." Edward drains his cup, setting it back on the saucer, he looks at me expectantly.

"If I ever have any problems that I cannot go to James with, I will come and find you." I speak directly to Edward looking into his mesmerising green eyes.

"Will you promise me, Bella?" There is an urgency in his tone that I find disarming.

"I promise Edward." A huge sense of déjà vu descends over me.

"Ok, well if I haven't offended you entirely…maybe we should move onto lighter topics and discuss the orchard. I wanted to go over some of my plans with you." Edward seems to relax with the mention of the orchard.

I reach across the table and rub my thumb across Edward's knuckles, "You haven't offended me, and I'd love to discuss the orchard."

We busy ourselves discussing a much more pleasant subject and I pour more tea. Edward loosens up and becomes animated as he explains his elaborate plans and I smile at him encouragingly. _I am becoming tremendously fond of this kind, insightful man sat before me._

x-x-x-x-x

Edward adds the finishing touches to the detailed plan we have been working on for the past few hours. We have compiled a list of the purchases we need to make, a timeline of when certain activities must be completed and a list of tasks that will be divvied up between us. I pick up the now empty plates that held the sandwiches we ate long ago and walk over to the kitchen worktop, placing them on it.

"Thanks Bella, I feel like we've accomplished a lot this afternoon." Edward rises from the table and gathers up all of the papers.

"You're welcome, I've had a lot of fun planning all of this." I move from the counter, knowing that Edward is politely hinting that he needs to leave now. _No doubt he has much more exciting things to be filling his time with. _

"I should leave you to get on with the rest of your day, I've taken up enough of it already. I hope I haven't distracted you from anything."

"Oh, not at all! I was just catching up on some reading – which reminds me, I was going to lend you that book about the orchardist." I wander towards the front room to get the book and motion for Edward to follow me.

"Oh yes! I don't want to forget that. It sounds really interesting."

I turn my back to Edward and begin browsing the bookshelf to find the title I am after. I hear a strangled sound coming from behind me and then Edward's voice…

"Bella..." I spin round to look at Edward. He's holding my battered copy of his second novel, _the one that should be wedged in the sofa!_ I freeze on the spot, I must look like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

"How long have you been reading my books?"

x-x-x-x-x

There's no point lying to him anymore – _He'll know that cover is from the first print-run and the battered book he's holding is a first edition. _I clear my throat and speak, "A...while." I walk over to the closest armchair and almost fall into it. I feel emotionally drained.

I look up at Edward, waiting for him to shout, or throw something or...even to just walk out, that would be something. He just stands there, clutching my book staring at me, his face blank. I'm unsure he even heard me. "Edward...? I-I said awhile."

"I heard you." His voice is a monotone, he's talking to me, but not really acknowledging that I am in the room. He sits on the edge of the sofa, he couldn't be further away from me _- unless he was in another room. _

"Why didn't you tell me you knew who I was?" He looks hurt, he just doesn't understand why I would lie.

I take a deep breath and speak, "Edward, we hardly met under…conventional circumstances. You thought I was a paparazzo or worse a stalker." I chuckle mirthlessly. Looking over to Edward I watch him staring at the book in his hands, turning it over and over. "Then we got talking and I thought it would just be best to pretend that I wasn't aware of your amazing talent."

Edward scoffs and drops the book to the floor, it lands with a dull thud. He rests his head in his hands and his long slender fingers pull at his silky auburn hair. "You still lied Bella, our friendship is based on lies. How can I trust anything you say to me now?" His voice is muffled.

I rise from the chair and walk over to Edward, I drop to my knees in front of him and gently prise his fingers from his hair, stopping them mid-assault. "Edward I was embarrassed, I am a huge fan of yours! Probably your biggest fan! I had to stop myself from somersaulting round your garden, yelling from the top of my lungs." I grasp his hands in mine. "I've read every single story you've had published...and not just once!"

He looks up at me, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"You moved in right next door to…hmm to use your words 'a crazy stalker housewife'. The very kind you were trying to avoid...how could I tell you that and expect you to stay around and speak to plain old me?"

He shakes his head and gently slips his hands from mine.

"You're anything but plain Bella." I blush at his words.

"I'm sorry Edward, I truly am. I didn't mean for you to feel betrayed. Or laid bare."

He nods and stares deep into my eyes.

"If it's any consolation Edward, you're a very private person. I know very little about you outside of your fiction." I hope my words put him at ease.

"There is one thing I want to ask you though Bella..." Edward covers his mouth with his right-hand and exhales noisily through his fingers.

"Yes Edward...you can ask me anything."

"When we first met, you enquired about the whereabouts of my wife…" _Oh dear, I don't like where this is going…_

"Why would you do that when you must've known she was dead?"

**A/n So let me know what you think of Bella in this chapter…is she going to end up, having pushed Edward too far?**

**I'm on twitter as flubbles, you can follow my pointless ramblings on there should you wish too. **

**Also I have an area set up for me on the forum, please go and check it out at www(dot)twilighted(dot)?f=44&t=9753. I am away this weekend, so may not update again until next Thursday, however it should all be back to normal after that!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/n So, we get a lot of Edward in this chapter, which as far as I'm concerned is never a bad thing! Hope you all like it. Stephanie Meyer came up with all the characters I am just using them in a British setting. There is some subject matter in this story of a sensitive/difficult nature and it is purely fictional and not medically accurate. I do not mean to offend anyone. **

Chapter 8

"Oh, Edward..." I run my fingers through my hair and sweep it back, trapping the locks in a ponytail at the nape of my neck. I exhale loudly...

"Yes, y-you're right, I did know your wife had...passed." I stop myself before I say the words suicide or died. Edward looks at me, his eyes blazing. I speak again quickly in an effort to calm him.

"When I asked whether you were involved with someone...well, I thought p-perhaps there might be someone…new..." As the words leave my lips I realise how awful they sound. _Stupid, stupid Bella! _

"Not that it was even any of my business, Edward...I suppose curiosity just got the better of me. I-I should never have asked," I ramble on, releasing my hair and wrapping my arms around myself. I've been kneeling before him for so long, pins and needles are slowly developing in my shins and ankles, but it doesn't matter. _It seems almost a relief to feel something._

Owing to the circumstances, being this close to him is wonderful and depressing at the same time. The sunlight streaming through the window behind him highlights the auburn tones in his hair; his broad shoulders are hunched slightly. He looks...weary. I look at his face; his eyes are moist as though he is trying to stifle his tears. The beautiful features of his face have gone slack, as if from emotional exhaustion. Only his jaw-line remains strong.

"Bella...th-there..." His voice is weak. He clears his throat and continues, this time in a stronger more controlled tone, "There won't ever be anyone else. Tanya was...is…the love of my life." He looks at me then and his face is contorted in pain, the knowledge that he had and lost his one true soul-mate has left him permanently damaged.

"Edward..." I say his name softly and place my hand on his knee. "I don't doubt your love for Tanya, but I'm sure in time you might-" He cuts me off mid-sentence, his fists clench as he speaks to me through his gritted teeth.

"Don't tell me there's someone else out there for me!" He rises from the sofa, shaking with rage. "I don't want anyone else Bella, I don't deserve anyone else!" He begins pacing up and down our small front room. I scramble to my feet and reach out to him, my hands grasping at his forearm trying to get him to stop pacing. He shakes me off and I gasp from shock.

"Edward what do you mean...you don't deserve anyone else? We all deserve happiness."

"I had my chance! It's my fault she killed herself!" He stops pacing and covers his face with his hands, he looks so broken. _No! __Surely Edward can't be to blame. _

"Edward...no. Why would you say such a thing?" I take his hands from his face and steer him with a little force back to the sofa. I sit down next to him and place my hand in his. He hangs his head low and speaks so quietly I struggle to hear him, his voice a mere whisper.

"Because it is my fault! I neglected her when she needed me and I put too much pressure on her. She was too isolated, too far from her family. She was American." He scoffs "Although, I'm sure you already knew that." He looks at me scathingly.

"Edward, please, this isn't about me! Please, just talk to me about why you feel like this." I know how exasperated I must sound and I rub my free hand on the back of his hand to try and calm him. _Be patient with him, it's your fault he's having to talk through all this._

His shoulders slump and he looks sheepish. He nods his head and begins to speak. "Tanya was a friend of the family, we used to holiday in the States with her parents when we were younger. That was how we met. I remember the first time I saw her as more than just a childhood friend. I was 18 and she was 16. She was perfection… all blonde flowing hair, tanned graceful limbs and bubbly care-free laughter. I didn't know any girls like her in the UK at the time. I wanted her and knew I had to have her." He stares straight ahead and lets out a shaky breath. I rub his arm encouraging him to continue.

"She was an amazing tennis player, a pro. She was destined for big things! She was advised by her coaches not to date me...told I would be too much of a distraction from her end goal...especially as we were doing the long-distance thing. But she was stubborn and went against their warnings." He chuckles mirthlessly. "If only, she knew then how right they were…" Edward shakes his head bitterly at the memory.

"We were holidaying in Ireland, she was taking a brief break from training and I had just got a new car. A Peugeot 1.6 GTI, I still remember the plate..." He looks wistful, remembering the happier times of their relationship. For some reason I feel a pang of jealousy. _She's dead Bella –_ _you cannot allow yourself to be jealous of a dead woman!_

"I was young and full of raging hormones. We were driving along a country lane and I was trying to impress her. I was going entirely too fast, attempting to demonstrate lift-off over-steer." I have no idea what that meant in car terms, but it doesn't sound good. _I don't think I like the direction this is heading in._

"We were going round a blind-bend…on the wrong side of the road...it was so stupid! So, so stupid!" He snatches his hands from my loose grasp and tugs harshly at his hair. "Stupid! Stupid!" He rocks back and forth. _Bella, you're losing him!_

I grab his face in both my hands, "Edward stop, you're becoming hysterical!" It's then that the tears fall and I pull him towards me, his head resting in my lap. I run my fingers through his hair, hoping that he finds it soothing. I can feel his free flowing tears soaking into my woollen skirt.

"We hit a car head-on..." his voice drops to a low level and as he speaks his lips brush against my thighs.

"Her tennis career was over. She was seeded, Bella. She was set to take part in Wimbledon that year. We had tickets for a box and everything...I was completely unharmed, it was just so unfair. She was so innocent…" He trails off, clearly drained by his outburst.

"When Tanya began to recover, she said she was fine with not playing anymore as long as we had each other. I was a struggling author, spending my days carrying out internships and other voluntary positions, desperate to gain experience. My evenings were dedicated to sending out manuscripts, hoping to get published. Things were tight but we were young and in love. We got married and Tanya settled with me in London." He sniffs loudly and wipes his nose with the back of his hand, I keep stroking his hair, pulling it from his forehead and making what I hope are soothing clucking and shushing noises.

"I should've noticed the changes in her behaviour, shortly after we were married, but at the time I was so wrapped up in myself. I'd got a publishing deal and an advance, but they wanted a lot of work from me and I was stressed trying to keep up with the demand. Tanya started making excuses to stay in the house… so she wouldn't have to accompany me to press functions. She neglected her friends, some days she wouldn't even get out of bed. I got so worried, I begged her to see a doctor but she convinced me she was fine...I didn't know at the time, but she was displaying classic symptoms of depression.

"T-Tanya said she wanted to start trying for a child...but we were still so young Bella, about the age you must be now, I wasn't ready to become a father...

"But she wore me down and reluctantly I agreed; it was the one thing I could give her. I owed it to her to try." I feel him squeeze his eyes shut almost like he's trying to block out the memory, his shoulders tense. _Oh the poor thing, does this harrowing tale get worse?_

"We tried for months, special diets, charting her ovulation so that we could make love at the optimum time...none of it worked. Tanya got herself checked out and it turned out the car accident had done more damage than originally thought. We would never be able to get pregnant using conventional methods. This was just another blow, something else she didn't need. Another straw to break the camel's back… And it was entirely fault. Everything bad that happened in her life all came back to me!" Edward exhales shakily.

"Like a typical man, I coped by ploughing all of my efforts into my work and pretending everything was fine. I looked into adoption and fostering, but Tanya just wasn't interested; she simply wanted her own baby, any other option wouldn't do."

I rub Edward's back as he collects his thoughts before continuing. "It hurt to look at her and to be in the same room as her, it was a constant reminder of how I had changed her life for the worse. We started to live as strangers. The papers reported that we were going to separate, because I would attend all public functions alone.

I began drinking heavily; I was either drunk or hung-over! I was an absolute pig to be around, I was existing…it couldn't be called living.

"The only moment of clarity was the morning I found her…" Edward slowly sits up and rests his hands on his knees.

"I was sleeping in the spare room – something that had become commonplace. I woke up and went into my study to check some emails…she was slumped on my desk, she had slit her wrists. There was blood everywhere..." He gulps noisily and then leans his head back on the sofa, the old tear tracks on his cheeks glistening in the light as they dry out.

"She was 24, Bella! 24! That's no life. She was just getting started! Her parents still blame me; they've severed all ties..."

My heart breaks for him all over again, _the one remaining connection with his soul-mate and they don't wish to know him. _

"Edward…" I speak slowly, carefully choosing my words. "I don't think any of these unfortunate events make you an inherently bad person." I tuck my hair behind my ear and twist my body round to face him, my knees gently resting against his right thigh.

"Bella, so much of what shaped who she was as a young woman was down to me, and the majority of it...was for the worse..." _I just want to hug him so badly, squeeze him tightly and tell him he's not a bad man. _

"Edward, whilst I'm sure there may be some things that you could've done differently… you're not to blame for Tanya's actions. She was clearly quite depressed."

His head snaps round to look at me. "I'm a MONSTER Bella!"

The anger is back and it's consuming him again.

"You're no monster, Edward!" I grab two fistfuls of his shirt and talk at him, staring right into his moist emerald green eyes.

"You've been nothing but kind to me, involving me in your orchard, expressing unnecessary concern for my well-being..." I loosen my grip on his shirt but I don't let go, I feel his heart pounding.

Edward clears his throat and speaks, "Bella, all of those things are easy, you're a good person." I blush at his kind words and look down.

"I just don't think that I deserve the opportunity to love again. I wouldn't want to risk damaging someone else the way I did her." He places his hands over mine and pulls them lightly away from his t-shirt, reluctantly I release the material. "It's best if I just stay single and try to be there for my family and friends."

"Edward…I just don't believe that! You're a gentle, compassionate man and I'm certain you will one day meet someone that can convince you of the good you have inside you." He's still holding my hands and it feels so wonderful, warm and tingly. _Where are all these feelings coming from?_

"Bella, please… could we stop talking about this now? I know I brought it up, but I'm feeling exhausted. It's so tough to talk about this." He lets my hands go and rubs his palms on his thighs.

"Yes, Edward we can leave it…" I pause, "But can I ask…now you know I read your books, has this changed anything between us?" _Oh I pray it hasn't! Please say you still want to be friends, Edward!_

Edward looks at me and his face breaks into a small, sad smile. "No, Bella, it hasn't changed anything. I'm disappointed you lied, but I guess… I understand why you did." I look up at him and breathe a huge sigh of relief, his smile widens.

He reaches a hand up and scratches the back of his head, the action makes him look aloof. "Umm… do you still want to be friends with me after everything I have told you?"

"Oh yes, Edward! Of Course! I am so looking forward to working together on the orchard. It'll be such a welcome break from my everyday routine." Overcome with joy and relief I forget my inhibitions and pounce on Edward hugging him tightly. To my utter surprise he hugs me back and tucks my head under his chin, holding me close. _It feels so right – I fit perfectly here! _

After a few seconds we pull apart, Edward looks awkward – _I wonder if he felt it too?_

"Bella, I really should be going, I've taken up enough of your time today. You must have so many things to get on with…" Edward begins to rise from the sofa.

I look at my watch._ God is that the time! _"Yes I suppose you're right, I do need to think about preparing dinner…" I trail off and stand as well.

"What culinary delights are you whipping up tonight then?" Edward looks less sombre, all traces of awkwardness evaporated.

"Oh, just Spaghetti Puttanesca, I think… something quick, yet flavoursome." I wave my hands as I speak to indicate that it won't take me long.

Edward starts to make his way towards the front door, grabbing the plans we've been working on all afternoon. "That sound delicious, I think Italian cookery is probably my favourite…even I can't destroy pasta! So, I'll see you tomorrow when we start work on clearing up the orchard." He seems distracted as he reaches for the door handle.

"Yes, I'll call round tomorrow morning and we can make a start." I watch as Edward steps out the door and stands on the porch, as I look up at him I wonder why I never realised before how tall he is.

"Great." Edward looks apprehensive like he wants to say something, but is uncertain.

"Edward, was there something else?"

"I just wanted to say thank you very much for listening to me this afternoon. It's been good to talk to someone… impartial about it."

_Oh when it comes to you Edward I'm anything but impartial…_

"I'm glad I could help you."

He turns and walks down the path. I don't bother waiting for him to get to the end of the garden before shutting the door. I lean back against it for support and let out a deep breath. It has been a difficult and draining afternoon. I'm so relieved that Edward still wants to remain friends. I walk towards the kitchen to start preparing dinner. There isn't long until James will be home.

x-x-x-x-x

James and I sit at the table, steaming bowls of spaghetti in front of us, as I twirl the pasta around my fork I'm conscious that James is watching me intently. "So Isabella…Spaghetti Puttanesca for dinner… you must've had a very busy day to warrant such a basic supper." His voice is accusing. _Tread carefully Bella…_

"I got on with a few chores this morning, then this afternoon Edward came round to discuss a plan of action for the orchard. We got carried away and the time got away from us." I keep my head down and pray that James doesn't make an issue of this.

"Isabella, I was kind enough to let you work on this orchard with _Edward_." He sneers as he speaks Edward's name. "However, I don't expect my mealtimes to suffer as a result!" I stop eating as James' temper grows and his voice becomes louder.

He rises from the table, picks up the food and launches it against the wall. The bowl smashes as it makes contact with the floor. The spaghetti is not far behind as it slides down the wall, leaving a trail of tomato sauce as it makes its descent.

"I'm going out to get some proper food." He steps over the mess and stands in the kitchen doorway looking at me. "Don't ever serve me that shit again!" He points at the bulk of the meal lying next to the skirting board, then turns on his heel and vacates the kitchen. I hear him put his coat on, his voice floats down the hallway, "And clear that mess up before I get home. I'll be back late." The front door slams, making me jump.

I scramble to the floor and begin picking up the pieces of crockery. Placing the broken shards in my hand, I stupidly cut my palm on a sharp edge and the stabbing pain is the end of me. It's then that the tears come. My body shakes with deep wracking sobs. I cry for myself, I cry for Edward and most of all I cry to let the pain out, to stop myself from going insane.

**A/n: So, I've noticed that loads of people read this story and have very kindly added it to their alerts and favourites...but haven't reviewed. There are lots of people out there that only read stories based on the number of reviews. So please if you have enjoyed this, leave me a review and then more will discover it...love Flubbles xx**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/n: All the characters belong to Ms Meyers, but the Orchard is all mine! Thank you to xoEMC, she is an amazing beta and a huge source of advice and support for this story. Enjoy!**

Chapter 9

I knock twice, loudly, remembering what happened the last time I called round on Edward! I wait patiently, fiddling with the floral gardening gloves I am wearing - they're an aid to disguise my wound. I reposition the trug that rests against my hip. I strain my neck to listen for any noises that may be coming from inside the house, any sort of sign that he might be about to answer the door.

"Come on you stubborn fucker!"

I flush at the choice of words as I hear Edward's strained tone emanating from the rear of the house. He must have begun clearing the garden without me, strange, I'm certain I'm on time. _I don't do late!_

I check my watch, just to make doubly sure. Satisfied that I am indeed a few minutes early, I stroll around the side of the house and lift the latch on the heavy full-height wooden gate. I push it open to reveal the entire orchard. My breath catches in my throat, I forgot how large the space was. It'll take weeks to clear! _Oh I have never been more grateful for manual labour until now! _

There must be at least 5 acres; the garden is long and narrow as it rolls and dips along the natural lie of the land. I cannot see the river through the mess of long grass and ivy growing up the perfect rows of spindly trees, but it makes its presence known through the delicate tinkling of the water in the distance. The sound is quite comforting. On a warmer day I shall look forward to dipping my toes in its cool water.

I wander further into the space, my feet pad silently on the grass carpet beneath me. I am still unable to see Edward, but I can very much hear him. As if using them as a map, I follow his stream of profanities in an effort to find him. I make my way around the side of the property, the lopping shears, trowel and other accoutrements clang together gently in the trug as they brush against my thigh. It's then that I see him...

Even though it's mid-morning, the sun is already fairly high. Edward has his back to me and is brandishing a hand-saw, attacking a rather substantial, stubborn looking branch. The material of his t-shirt is damp with sweat and it clings to the contours of his back. I can see the muscles rippling through the thin material as he draws the blade back and forth, back and forth, punishingly, making quick work of removing the hefty branch.

When he finishes, he discards the off-cut onto an existing pile. I watch as he lets the saw fall from his hand to rest on the grass beneath him. Breathing heavily, he lifts the front of his t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. Hiding in the shadows created by the house, I watch as he stands side on. My eyes travel to his exposed stomach, the muscles there are rigid and perfectly defined. My left hand twitches as I struggle to suppress the strong desire I have to rake my fingernails over his taught abs. I bite my lower lip as my eyes travel further down, stopping at the waistband of his jeans. _He really is breathtaking. _

As I stand open-mouthed gawping at Edward, he chooses that exact moment to turn round and catch me in the act of spying on him. I clamp my mouth shut and feel the familiar heat of my blush spreading over my face.

"God, Bella! I didn't realise the time. Have you been there long?" He releases the hem of his t-shirt, cutting off my view of his torso, I can't help but feel short-changed. _Bella, what has got into you, you're a married woman! _

"No, not long at all."

I hear myself answer him, but I don't even realise I'm forming the words. Visions of his semi-naked upper body are hampering my ability to think clearly. I busy myself with setting down the trug and taking out all of the tools, trying to focus on the task at hand. I use my hair to cover my face until I feel my blush recede.

"So, what would you like me to do?" I stand up fully and look at Edward. He brushes the back of his hand across his forehead, sweeping the strands of hair from out of his eyes.

"There is so much to be done, I almost don't know where to start!" Edward takes a step towards me and points his finger at me. "But that my dear...is where you come in! Your horticultural knowledge coupled with my brute strength should make for a formidable team." His face cracks into an infectious grin and I cover my mouth with my gloved hand as a giggle escapes.

"Do you doubt my strength Bella?" he picks up a small insignificant branch and snaps it over his knee.

I shake my head at his silliness and pick up a set of secateurs and a large garden sack, making my way over to the impressive pile of branches and off-cuts. I glance over my shoulder at Edward trying to appear haughty and I speak in a mock prim tone,

"When you've quite finished your little display Edward, perhaps we could get some work done?" I turn my head and try to stifle my chuckle.

"As you wish, Mrs Smith..."

And with that he grabs his saw and continues to remove the lower branches of the more established trees. The pruning and thinning of the trees is one of the most important tasks as it allows sunlight to reach the blossom, encouraging a good crop; whilst providing plenty of space for the heavy boughs of fruit that will form. For Edward to be carrying out this task hurriedly in early spring proves he is not as clueless about the whole process as he would have me believe. Perhaps he has begun reading the book I leant him. Ideally all of the tasks we are performing should have been carried out in mid-winter.

I busy myself cutting up the larger branches to fit them into the garden bags so they can be disposed of. As I survey the orchard I can count approximately 30 dwarf trees. I don't expect an overwhelming harvest this year as all of the trees are in need of some severe hand-holding. I recognise three different varieties of apple, two of which are local to the area: the Dymock Red and the amusingly named Bushy French. The third however is the more common Dabinett variety.

There doesn't however appear to be any pear trees and I distinctly remember Edward saying he wished to produce Perry as well. I voice my concerns. "Edward, you are aware that all of these trees are apple trees aren't you?"

Edward stops sawing and looks at me witheringly.

"Yes Bella, I do know that much at least! I have some pear trees on order at a local nursery." He looks pleased with himself and smiles smugly at me.

"Can I ask what varieties you are getting?" I'm really curious to know what he'll be growing, as much as I love Cider, my real weakness is for Perry. I'll have to be patient though. The trees he's buying will be only 4 years old and he'll have to wait at least the same again before he can begin to produce a decent crop.

"Well, I deliberated for a long time over which pears to buy..." He leans back against the closest tree, his right-leg bent at the knee, his foot resting against the trunk. He runs his free hand through his hair and smiles at me, like the cat that ate the canary. He knows I'm desperate to know and he's trying to play hard to get, he crosses his arms over his chest.

Annoyed with myself I take the bait. "And...?"

Chuckling he speaks "And... I decided to choose varieties with names that mean something to me."

_Goddamit! Why won't he just tell me! _

"And... those would be...?" I look at Edward, pleading him with my eyes to just spit it out.

"White Longdon, Swan Egg and the extremely dry and sour Bloody Bastard!"

My ears prick up as I hear the mention of my maiden name. _No, it couldn't be for me surely. _I'm shocked by his choices. I have no idea of the significance of White Longdon, but I'm guessing it has something to do with Tanya. And I'm stumped entirely by the Bloody Bastard..._Could I ask him?_

"Swan Egg?" My cheeks are stained crimson as I say the words aloud.

Edward steps away from the tree and walks closer to me.

"Yes Bella, Swan Egg. I picked it for you, as a pre-emptive thank you for all of your help in the Orchard. I ordered them a short while ago, but it can go towards thanking you for our talk yesterday as well."

I am warmed by his kind comments.

"Edward, you didn't have to do that! But I'm pleased you did."

I give him a quick one-armed hug and then resume work on the pile of woody debris as he takes up the saw again. With my head down as if concentrating on the task at hand I speak,

"Can I ask about the other names?"

Edward flinches infinitesimally but carries on sawing, "Longdon was Tanya's maiden name, and you don't need to concern yourself with the other one." Judging by Edward's tone, the discussion is over. I carry on cutting.

X-X-X-X-X

We've been working for a few hours now and my muscles are beginning to feel sore from the repetitive aspect of the work. I am now weeding the orchard and trying to free the trees of the ivy that is suffocating them. Edward is working farther in, I can still see him - just. Focussing my attention on a particularly stubborn patch of ivy, I tug and heave, really putting my back into it. Suddenly the ivy snaps and comes away from the tree trunk, I yelp as I am propelled backwards landing hard on my bottom.

Edward comes running over, "Bella are you ok?"

He puts his hands under my arms and lifts me up, setting me on my feet. He then starts checking me over to make sure I'm ok. I notice the throbbing pain in my right-hand and the slightly damp sticky feeling in my glove. I know straightaway what has happened. I remove my glove and look at the plaster and bandage, both are soaked through with my blood. I feel immediately light-headed and my stomach lurches. It's then that I feel Edward's strong arms encircle my waist.

He takes my hand in his and inspects the damage.

"Bella when did you do this? It looks pretty deep, you really shouldn't have been weeding with a wound like this." He shakes his head reproachfully at me and I look up into his concerned forest green eyes.

"I-I did it last night on some broken crockery. I thought it would've healed more by now." I rest my head back against Edward's chest partly because I feel queasy, but also because it's not altogether unpleasant.

"Come on, let's get you inside and clean you up."

Edward steers me towards the house and we enter through the Victorian conservatory. Any other time I would stop and have a good look around, the vista of the garden from here would be amazing. We enter my favourite room, the kitchen, it's the heart of any home.

"Here, sit down." Edward pulls out a chair from the kitchen table and sits me on it, pushing me down gently by my shoulders. "Now, just give me a minute to fetch the first aid kit."

I don't want to bother him further, but I have to ask as I'm feeling woozy now. "Edward, could I have a glass of water first please?"

"Certainly."

Edward grabs a glass from the cupboard and fills it up from the tap, letting it run a little first to cool it. Placing the water in front of me, he leaves the room to get the first aid kit. I pick up the glass with my good hand and press it against my forehead. I close my eyes and sigh contentedly, the cool liquid feels delightful against my skin.

Edward returns with the first aid kit and my eyes snap open, I lower the glass and take a small sip. He fills a bowl with warm water and a few drops of liquid antiseptic, then carries all of his kit over to the table and turns a chair round to sit facing me alongside the table, our knees touching.

He takes my hand delicately and unpeels the bandage and plaster. Dabbing some cotton wool in the warm liquid he brushes it lightly over my palm, cleaning the wound. I flinch at the stinging sensation.

"Sorry, I know it stings, but it's necessary."

"It's ok, honestly." I shrug as Edward continues to clean my hand.

Drying off the cut with a fluffy hand-towel he secures four butterfly stitches to my hand and bandages it perfectly, rolling the bandage around my hand and wrist. I enjoy watching him work, it's methodical and so neatly done. Where did he learn to do this? When he's finished I lift up my hand and marvel at his work. I feel him watching me and I look over at him and smile.

He volunteers the information before I even have a chance to ask.

"My Dad was a doctor, a GP. He's retired now. He got so sick of mine and Emmett's sporting sprains and injuries growing up, he taught us how to bandage them ourselves!" I chuckle at this glimpse into Edward's formative years.

"I was an incredibly clumsy child, well honestly I'm an incredibly clumsy adult as well. My Mother used to joke that I would turn her hair grey with worry." My eyes tear up a little at the mention of my Mother.

"You don't talk about your parents much Bella. Why is that?"

"It's too painful, they're both dead. A car accident..." I trail off and my voice chokes up.

Edward places a hand on my shoulder and I lean into it. I find it encouraging and for the first time in a while I feel strong enough to talk to someone about it.

"My Mother, Renee was an Art Teacher, which suited her perfectly, she was bohemian to say the least!" Edward smiles gently and I continue, "My Father, Charlie ran his own accountancy firm."

"I feel like I've let them down. I mean they loved James and they were there for my wedding day...but my Mother always wanted me to realise my aspirations to teach. There's just never been the right time for it and James isn't really keen for me to work."

I shrug my shoulders, resigning myself to my fate, Edward's hand squeezes my shoulder gently. I almost forgot it was even there.

"Out of interest, what subject would you have taught?"

My eyes widen in surprise as Edward shows a genuine interest in what I am saying. I don't even have to think about my answer, I blurt it out straightaway,

"English – without a doubt, I'm fascinated by the written word."

Edward's eyebrows shoot-up in surprise.

"Well, it seems that is just another thing we have in common." He winks at me conspiratorially.

X-X-X-X-X

I've been thoroughly pampered by Edward, he whipped up scrambled eggs on toast for us both and I washed it down with a mug of my favourite beverage – hot sweet tea! I'm mindful of the time though and I attempt to glance surreptitiously at my watch. Edward catches me and clears his throat to speak.

"I guess it is getting late, isn't it?"

I nod in agreement, I'm just about to answer him verbally when the phone starts to ring. It is an old-fashioned phone with a central dial and a shrill tone. Edward gets up from his seat and walks around the table to pick up the receiver.

"Hello..."

"Ah Jane Volturi..."

His face scrunches up as he says the name, I don't know who this 'Jane' is, but Edward doesn't appear to be a fan. _Which means I instantly dislike her as well!_

I can't make out the words, but I can hear a high-pitched nasally voice on the other end of the line and she seems to be very angry with Edward.

"Yes, I know it's been a while-"

"I appreciate that, but I've been-"

I can tell she keeps cutting him off mid-sentence. I add rude and impatient to the mental profile I am creating for this Jane person.

"Look, I'll aim to have something with you by the end of the month." Edward holds the phone away from his ear as the wailing banshee continues her tirade down the line.

"Alright, alright...the end of the week!"

"I'm not making any promises, you'll get what you're given..."

"A pleasure as always, Jane."

He slams the receiver down and curses under his breath, "That woman is fucking insufferable." He turns round to lean against the kitchen worktop.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that, Bella. That was Jane...my editor."

"Why was she so angry with you?"

He chuckles, "Oh, she wasn't angry! That's how she always speaks to me. I think she learnt her manners from a baboon! I owe her some chapters for my latest book."

My eyes light-up, this must be the final book in the series that I read about in the newspaper. _It's being written right next door to me!_

"Don't look too excited...I've barely written any of it. I am really struggling with writer's block. That's why I wanted to start work on the Orchard. I thought the free time working outside might clear my head."

I cock my head to one side.

"And did it?"

Edward shakes his head.

"Not in the slightest! I have four chapters written, I'm not entirely happy with any of them, but I'll probably send them to Jane just to get her off my back."

_I'd give my right-arm to read those chapters! Oh to be honest I'd even throw in a kidney!_

He crosses the kitchen and stands with his hands resting on the table, looking down at me. e H"Say, Bella, I know it's not the same as teaching...but you said yourself you love to read right? So I've got a little proposition for you, how about it?" Edward's smile is cheeky and infectious, I feel one spread across my face as well.

"How about what?" I lean forward in my seat and rest my elbows on the table.

"Would you like to be my pre-reader?"

**A/n: So here are a few links to some definitions for anyone struggling with the British eccentricities that my story oozes...  
Trug: www(dot)thegardenersshop(dot)co(dot)  
Lopping shears: www(dot)lovethyspace(dot)co(dot)uk/product/duchyloppingshears/  
Perry: http:/en(dot)wikipedia(dot)org/wiki/Perry  
Please feel free to join us in The Orchard should you wish to discuss this story, or should you have further questions: www(dot)twilighted(dot)?f=44&t=9753&hilit=A+form+of+escapism  
Thank you for reading and reviewing, I truly am overwhelmed by the interest that has been generated in this story. Flubbles x**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/n: Hello again all! Not sure if anyone noticed, but I have posted for the last three Sunday's in a row. So it looks as though this will be my new posting day. Which means I shall aim to update once a week.  
Enjoy the chapter below and as ever let me know what you think or come and take a weight off in the orchard ****www(dot)twilighted(dot)?f=44&t=9753&hilit=A+form+of+escapism.  
As always, all characters belong to Ol' Steph and they're just winding down in England for a short while.**

**Thanks xoEMC, great beta'ing as always and congratulations on your new job! xxx  
**

Chapter 10

"What does a pre-reader do, exactly?" I blink at Edward, a mixture of emotions swimming through me, initially flattery and disbelief at this amazing opportunity. These feelings quickly morph into anxiety and fear. _Will I be of any help to him? How much of my time would this take up?_ I'm already struggling to placate James and work on the orchard. Could I really add something else to my ever-increasing list? _But I want this more than I wanted to work in the Orchard. _

"A pre-reader is someone who reads an author's work and provides a constructive critique about any emotions the story invokes in them, along with any criticisms. Perhaps, whether you thought I was deviating from the plot, or introducing something that was out of character." He rubs his chin as he speaks.

I listen to Edward's explanation. As I understand it, I will be required to read his novel..._his steamy, passionate, lust-filled work._ Then, I will have to discuss these sex scenes with Edward, and specify what I did or didn't feel about the entire experience. I feel my face redden at the thought and fan myself whilst crossing my legs self-consciously. I gulp. _Is it getting hot in here? Maybe I should get him to open a window. _

Edward continues speaking, my discomfort going unnoticed.

"It's not really like an editorial role; I don't need you to check the grammar. Just give me a feel of whether I'm heading in the right direction with my characters. You'd be perfect; you've read all my other books...more than once if that battered old copy I saw was anything to go by." I blush whilst Edward winks at me before continuing.

"And you possess a literary background, it'd be easy for you. So...what do you say?" He looks at me expectantly. O_h god, I can't ever say no to this man. _

I answer him, but it comes out sounding more like a question.

"Umm sure?" My eyebrows rise and I know I must have a slightly pained look on my face. _My only hope is that he's waited until at least chapter five to 'do the deed'!_

"Excellent. Partner!" He proffers me his hand and I shake it lightly. _No backing out now..._

Edward heads towards the hallway, walking backwards, facing me as he speaks, "Let me get my notebook and I can email a copy of the chapters across to you." He holds up his index finger. "I'll be one minute."

With that he's gone, I am not even given a chance to explain that I don't own a computer let alone have an email address to present him with.

He returns to the room with what looks to be the world's thinnest notebook under his arm, I recognise the logo. "Is that an Apple?"

He shakes his head. "Oh no, no, Bella. This is not just any Apple! It's an Apple MacBook Air with an aluminium unibody." The information floats straight over my head and I feel no urgency to even attempt to retain it, I stare at him completely bewildered.

"Here, feel how light it is...it weighs a little over a kilo." He hands the laptop over to me, an expectant smile emblazoned on his face. I take it from his hands and marvel at how light it is. _Hmm lighter than a bag of sugar, fancy that!_

I clear my throat to speak, "Yes, it's very...light."

I'm unsure of what else to say, I'm a complete technophobe. I hand the notebook back, petrified that I might damage it in some way. I'm sure it's expensive, generally things that are smaller and lighter seem to be costly in the world of technology. _This confuses me, if there is less of something, why should I be expected to pay more? _

Edward fires up the computer and directs his attention towards me. "So, what's your email address?"

I fidget nervously under his watchful eye. "Umm I don't have an email address." Edward's eyebrows dart skywards in shock, but he quickly recovers himself.

"No worries, we'll create you one now. Do you have any preference? How about Gmail? Then we can instant chat, if you have any questions..." He stares at the screen and begins lightly tapping away on the keyboard.

My voice now drops to a whisper, "Actually, I don't have a computer. I mean James has a work laptop, but I'm not allowed to use it, something to do with company policy." I shrug my shoulders.

"Do you even have an internet connection at home?"

I shake my head slowly, this is mortifying.

"Holy fuck! How do you live without the internet?" Edward's voice is incredulous. I just shrug my shoulders, looking down at my lap, biting my lower lip, I feel so small.

" Shit! Sorry Bella I didn't mean to be so insensitive. It's just that I couldn't imagine..."

I sniff back the unshed tears, making more noise than I intend. Edward rushes round to me and lifts my chin so that I am forced to look at him. He speaks softly, "Shh! I don't ever want to be responsible for making you cry!" I blink at him through my unshed tears and I sniffle again.

"This isn't a major set-back. I'll just print out a copy for you! See, all better!" He smiles reassuringly at me and releases my chin. I straighten up, pull back my shoulders and take a deep breath.

I nod at him. "Thank you Edward. I didn't mean to be so...pathetic! This is just all quite overwhelming."

He waves his hand as if to indicate that it's no big deal. "I'll have something ready for you to pick up tomorrow when we work some more on the orchard. Only light duties for you though." He motions to my hand and grins.

I lift my hand to my chest and cradle it there, stroking the bandage lightly. Out of the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of the time displayed on my watch. _Gah! It's nearly 5.00pm._

I rise from my chair, I really need to go home. "Edward, thank you so much for today. I had fun, but I really have to make a move. I haven't even started on dinner!" I feel myself begin to get slightly flustered.

If Edward is surprised by my sudden change in demeanour, he doesn't show it. "Yeah, sure. The afternoon did sort of run away with us!"

I try to calm myself down, my mind racing on what there is to do at home. "Would it be ok if I left all of my garden tools here? There doesn't seem any point lugging them home."

"No problem, I'll put them in my new shed...well, I will when it arrives. All real men need a shed, right?" I shake my head and smile at him, he's so good at lifting my mood. _He's nothing but a big child in a man's body! _

"Whatever you say Edward!"

X-X-X-X-X

"Isabella, things are starting to go to seed around here..." I try to feign interest in James' latest chastisement. _If there's something he wants doing, I wish he'd just spit it out_.

I watch him as he takes a bite of his toast and marmalade, taking the occasional sip of tea from the bone china teacup. A napkin clings to the collar of his shirt, he's ready for work and has a nasty habit of missing his mouth when he eats. He strings out the sentence as though he is trying to heighten the drama of the moment.

"How many days a week did we agree that you could go and assist Edward with his..._project_?" He puts down his cup temporarily to make air quotes when he says the word project._ He's grating on me more than usual this morning. _

"Three days a week," I murmur from behind my teacup.

"Yes...exactly, three days a week. Well now I'm introducing a new rule." He sneers at me condescendingly.

This piques my interest, but I'm clever enough to stay quiet.

"I want those days spread out evenly over the week, preferably the same three days. So I know where you are and what to expect." I nod, it seems...sort of reasonable I guess – _and it's not like he's taking any of the days away_.

He continues, "And I don't want you going to see _Him_ today." His voice is full of venom when he refers to Edward.

"But, I promised I would call round today..." My voice trails off.

He slams his hand flat against the table, everything rattles in protest.

"Dammit Isabella, FOR ONCE DO AS YOU'RE TOLD!" He roars at me and I rear back in my chair, ensuring I am out of arms length.

He rises from the chair, throwing the napkin down on the space he has just vacated.

"Scrub the kitchen floor, it's filthy and I'll know if you haven't. I want all the rooms vacuumed, furniture moved as well." He grabs the back of the chair, his knuckles turning white from their deathly grip.

"And I want Beef Wellington for dinner with Dauphinoise potatoes." I resist the urge to roll my eyes. _Only he would request two dishes that rich and want them served together. _

"But we don't have any fillet steak, and there isn't enough house-keeping money left to buy some." My voice is small as I present this information, trying not to exacerbate him further.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Well get pork tenderloin then."

_He really has no appreciation for the delicate balance of flavours and importance of using the right ingredients for a dish to truly make your taste-buds sing. _

I'm not sure whether it's newly found bravery, sheer stupidity or my need to defend all things culinary, but I cannot stop the words as they leave my lips. "So you want Pork Wellington...?"

His face turns red, like steam might actually come out of his ears.

"You're lucky I need to leave for work now! " He points at me menacingly, his index finger inches from my face.

He then turns on his heel, vacating the room. I hear him grab his things in the hallway, the front door slams loudly, almost making the house shake.

X-X-X-X-X

I've been to the butchers, vacuumed, prepped the ingredients for dinner and I'm currently kneeling on the hard stone kitchen floor. We don't have a mop, so when the floor needs cleaning I have the pleasure of getting down on my hands and knees and scrubbing. I'm wearing my marigolds so that Edward's bandage does not get wet in any way.

I haven't been to see Edward yet, I can't face it. I don't care that James forbid me, I have to explain to him. I know he is expecting me, but we never actually arranged a time...

I know I can't put it off any longer. I finish scrubbing in the corner of the room nearest the front door, so that I won't have to walk over the freshly cleaned floor. As I rise my knees grumble, a searing pain shoots through my kneecaps. I grunt loudly, trying to breathe through the pain. I stand up fully and try and stretch out as much as I can.

I take slow tiny steps to the door, the throbbing worsens the more ground I cover. I manage to walk through the pain and try to push it to the back of my mind. I have to go and see Edward to offer an apology and collect the manuscript.

I hobble over to his house, confident that I must have a really bad case of pins and needles and it's only a matter of time before the pain goes away. I make my way up the path, smoothing my hair back into the clasp I am wearing at the nape of my neck. As I'm about to knock on his door, it flies open and I'm almost knocking on Edward's face.

"I was just coming to see you." He sounds anxious.

"Me too..." I smile gently.

"Well, come in." He steps to one side, allowing me to pass him. I try to walk by him as normally as possible. _I think I pulled it off._

"Bella, is everything ok? You're walking a little strangely." _Oh!_

"Oh, it's nothing. I was in a bit of pain this morning when I woke up. I think I must've slept funny." I try to sound vague.

Edward nods.

"You don't think it's the work we did yesterday do you? It could be DOMS, you should probably take it easy today." His voice takes a serious turn.

"DOMS?" He's completely lost me.

"Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness, it's common if you do a lot strenuous or highly repetitive activity," he explains it as though everyone should know what it means.

"Right, that must be it then, DOMS." I try out the phrase. "I'm afraid I wouldn't be of much use to you today." I nod, my arms crossed.

"Well, maybe not in body, but I can still make use of your mind." His eyes light up and he motions for me to sit on the sofa in the front room. He wanders over to the familiar looking mahogany bureau – I remember I saw it on moving day.

My eyes then greedily scan the rest of the room, looking for any other recognisable items. I've never been in the living room before. The only glimpse I had, was through the window the day of our first meeting. Whenever I visited Mrs Roberts we always went straight to the kitchen, she said this room was purely for entertaining; the door was always firmly shut. It's a large room, with high ceilings, ornate coving winds its way around the top of the entire room and an elaborate rose is affixed to the middle of the ceiling, a modest chandelier hangs from it.

The walls are a dark taupe, it's a very sombre colour and it makes the room feel so 'grown-up' I know Edward didn't choose the colour. It was the previous owners. Various large bright pieces of art hang on the walls, as if trying to lift the tone of the room. I recognise a Gursky and a Pollock, they're both prints. A wood-burning stove is installed in the fireplace and a mantel clock sits above the fire, in its rightful place on the mantelpiece.

The floors are bare wood, except for the large Persian rug that the impressive grand piano is positioned upon. _Unlike our rug, I'm certain this one actually is authentic. _

The polished shine of the piano is almost blinding as the late morning sunlight bounces off of it, highlighting specks of dust floating in the air above it, drawn to the surface. No items sit on the piano. It is completely bare.

Edward taps me lightly on the shoulder with the manuscript, causing me to jump, which in turn causes me to wince in pain. I'd momentarily forgotten about my back and knee-pain. I turn to look at him and he speaks.

"Bella, promise me if you don't feel better in the morning you'll rest up and we'll have a day off. You can use it as an opportunity to read this." He grins as he passes over the hefty stack of A4 paper to me. _Gosh there's so much of it! If that's only four chapters how do they fit all of that into my tiny hardbacks?. _

Remembering his initial question I answer him, "I promise, if I don't feel better tomorrow I will let you know." From the look on his face, that seems to have placated him.

I open the first page and relax marginally as I realise that all of the pages are double-spaced and one-sided. He's also allowed one page for each chapter number. I'm sure if his other books are anything to go by, I won't be able to put this down and I'll be begging for more in no time.

I close the pages and smooth the stack, resting it on my knee, I look up at Edward as he stands in front of me. He links his fingers together and rests both of his index fingers on his lips before speaking.

"Now, I know I can trust you implicitly Bella, but you have to make sure these chapters aren't viewed by any eyes other than yours. Sorry to be so cloak and dagger, but if anything gets leaked it really could jeopardise my contract!" He looks almost apologetic.

"Edward, of course I understand completely. It's just between you and me, I'll put it away somewhere safe so that even James doesn't know about it." I put my hand on my heart to show that he can trust me. _It'll be difficult, but I'll do it for Edward!_

Edward breathes a sigh of relief.

"Yes I really think that would be best. Thanks Bella." I begin to rise from the sofa and Edward puts his hand under my elbow and helps to support me. I smile my thanks at him and stand up fully. My back protesting further, my lips tighten in a thin line.

I pat Edward on the forearm, "Honestly, I'll take good care of this!" I tap the stack of paper with my good hand. _My god I'm falling apart!_

"I better get home with this tree-load of paper and make a dent in it." I grin at Edward and he smiles back.

He walks ahead of me and opens the door, stepping to the side allowing me room to exit. I walk slowly and stiffly towards him, concern etched on his face. I stop in front of the open doorway to look up at Edward, his hand quickly darts out and I resist the urge to flinch. _It's Edward don't be so silly. _

He caresses a few strands of hair that have fallen from my clasp, running them between his thumb and forefinger, before tucking them behind my right ear.

"So soft." I hear him whisper. I'm completely taken aback, it is such a strange gesture. More than friends, but not brotherly either. Entirely inappropriate, but so welcome.

I flush red and look up into his half-closed eyes, he puts both of his hands in his jean pockets as if that is the only way he can restrain himself from touching me further.

"Edward, I really should go." Nervously I manage to string a sentence together.

He clears his throat, and when he speaks his voice is steely and distant, "Sure. I'll see you tomorrow. Please take it easy for the rest of the day." I nod at Edward.

I rush from the house, making my way down the path faster than is really comfortable. When I reach the gate and turn to lock it behind me I stupidly look up, hoping to see Edward. All I am greeted with is a closed door and no sign that he was ever there.

X-X-X-X-X

The manuscript is safely hidden in the spare room along with all of Edward's other books that I own, I haven't had a chance to read it yet, but I cannot wait. This is the one thought that occupies my mind as I watch James consuming his abomination of a meal choice.

He cuts through my thoughts to speak.

"Isabella, do you remember a chap from the office called Robert?" James looks at me expectantly.

"Umm, yes I think so." _Not a clue, never heard of the bloke. _

"Well, he's been rushed into hospital for an emergency hernia operation…"

Without thinking I cut in, "Oh how awful." James just rolls his eyes.

"As I was saying, he was due to go to a plastics conference at Olympia in London tomorrow." I resist the urge to move to the edge of my seat in excitement.

He continues, "a. "And they've asked me to go in his place. Now I know it's short notice and I would be away for a whole week, but there should be more than enough time tonight for you to pack the things I need." _James, I'd fire up a loom and make your clothes myself from scratch, if it would give me a week of freedom!_

"I'm not sure what hotel I'm staying in, I'll call you if I need to speak with you for any reason,.," James speaks with finality - the discussion is over.

"That all sounds fine to me, just let me know whatever you need." I struggle to keep the glee out of my voice…the whole house entirely to myself, Edward's manuscript, Edward's orchard…and Edward's company. This is going to be the best week ever!

**A/n: Lucky little Bella, no James for a whole week! Check out some of these other fics that are really impressing me at the moment are:**

**www(.)fanfiction(.)net/s/5936854/1/ A Matter of Trust by Quietruby  
www(.)fanfiction(.)net/s/5880132/1/ An Angel Closes Her Eyes by tg10781**  
**www(.)fanfiction(.)net/s/5979914/1/ Say Hello, Wave Goodbye by afoolishmortal**  
**www(.)fanfiction(.)net/s/5986853/1/ Fill My Mittle World by Hongkongphooey**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/n: Hello All, it's that time again. I'm posting earlier today as I shall be in the pub this afternoon watching England in the World Cup! Fingers crossed! Hope you enjoy this chapter, I have two wonderful ladies to thank for their amazing beta help this week. The lovely xoEMC who is somewhere in Texas sipping Margaritas and sunning herself...and the wonder Jaustenlover who has worked wonders with the material she was given. Thank you very much both of you for your help! **

Chapter 11

I yawn loudly as I clean away the remnants of a continental breakfast. James left at the crack of dawn to be sure he could get on a train that would arrive in London on time. I packed all of his belongings, and waved him off like a dutiful wife. Which is why I now find myself wiping croissant debris from the kitchen work top at 6.00am. I am overjoyed to have a week free of him and I had struggled to conceal the sheer joy I experienced carrying out all of the required tasks that helped to send him on his way.

I fill the stovetop espresso maker with water and finely ground coffee, placing it on the smallest ring. I settle on one of the kitchen chairs. The kick of good strong coffee should be enough to awaken me and get me through the morning. I'm still in excruciating pain from scrubbing the kitchen floor yesterday.

I lift my skirt to look at my knees, my eyes widen at the grisly sight which greets me. My kneecaps are a fiery red and they're swollen. They groan and protest as I stretch and lengthen out my legs. The gurgling of the espresso maker distracts me from my anatomical inspection and I rise slowly from the chair. I make it to the counter breathing through the pain and turn off the gas. There is no way I will be able to help Edward in the orchard today. Disappointment courses through me.

I open the wall-mounted cupboard in front of me and reach around for some ibuprofen. I take two pills without water, as I cannot face staggering to the sink to fill a glass. I retrieve a cup from the cupboard next to the oven and fill it with the freshly brewed espresso. The strong smell of the pungent, dark liquid wafts up towards me. I blow on it gently and take a long draught. It soothes me and warms me from the inside out.

I'll go and see Edward in a couple of hours, and explain to him. At the moment, it's too early. Maybe I should use my spare time to try and read some of his manuscript. Walking slowly to the front room, I settle on the sofa, stretching my legs out in front of me as I recline. The manuscript is on the coffee table, staring at me. I put it there after James left. _I'm so afraid to read it. _

I pick it up and place it in my lap. The cover stares back at me, _'The Magdalen Saga: The Fritillary Connection'. _I peel back the first page and I am presented with a blank page, turning the page again... '_Chapter 1: The Meeting Place'. _I fiddle with the top right-hand corner of the page, trying to work up the courage to turn it over. It's Edward's work; I know it will be good. _But will I be able to offer a useful critique? I've never analysed his prose before. I just lost myself in it. I never thought about it too deeply._

I rub my hands together and take a deep breath – _come on Bella, you can do this! It's just a little work of fiction_. I turn the page over and lose myself in the text. I'm one chapter in and making mental notes as I go.

The main protagonist is named Catherine. She is the long-lost daughter of the troubled star-crossed lovers from the previous books. I find that the saga has moved on in years and Catherine is a member of the Magdalen College waiting staff.

The foundations have been set for Catherine to fall in love with a wealthy scholar affiliated with the College. Their love is frowned upon based on their social standings. The language is exquisite and the descriptions of the 1800s are so educational and informative. He's really done his research.

I'm three chapters in and so far no sex, I breathe a sigh of relief. I'm dreading that discussion with Edward. I check the time, it's 8.30am. I feel like I should do something for Edward to say thank you for asking me to be his pre-reader and to apologise for my lack of assistance with the orchard.

The easiest, quickest, tastiest thing I can think of to make is flapjacks. I'm sure I have all the ingredients. I rise from the sofa, my movements reminiscent of an 80 year old woman and I hobble to the kitchen.

X-X-X-X-X

The house is filled with the delicious, sweet smell of golden syrup and toasted oats as the cut flapjacks cool on the worktop. It's finally time for me to go and see Edward. I pull on a pair of Chelsea loafers and smooth my tweed skirt. Grabbing the flapjacks, I walk to the door, rapidly getting more annoyed with how infirm I am becoming.

Clearing the short distance, I walk to Edward's house; a car I don't recognise is parked in the driveway. It's a Mercedes AMG SL55, a Kompressor apparently. I glean this from reading all the badges on the boot. I toy with the idea of turning round and going back home. If Edward has company, I really don't want to interrupt.

As I grapple with my internal dilemma, I hear the front door open and the decision is made for me. I look up to see Edward staring at me.

"Hi Bella, I saw you from the window and wondered if you were ever going to come in." Edward grins cheekily at me and a reactionary blush creeps over my cheeks. I smile bashfully and walk the few short steps to the house.

The smile falls from Edward's face, he must've noticed I am still walking awkwardly. He takes three quick strides towards me and wraps an arm around my waist, supporting my weight. I fall into his side gratefully.

"Bella are you still in pain from yesterday?" Edward's voice is full of concern. I nod my head as he almost carries me into the house. My feet barely graze the floor as I clutch the flapjacks close to me.

Edward deposits me on the sofa in the front room. When he takes a step back, I realise we are not the only two in the room. A middle-aged man sits in the leather wing-back chair, he is wearing a cream Aran jumper; the collar of his cotton shirt poking out of the neck. His brown corduroy trousers are slightly worn at the knee, and they come to rest upon his deck shoes. His hair is a greying blonde and his eyes are crinkly in the corners, giving him a kindly appearance.

Edward interrupts my personal assessment to introduce the man to me. "Bella, this is my father, Dr Carlisle Cullen." I begin to rise, but Dr Cullen, shakes his head to indicate there is no need. He quickly crosses the room and comes to sit beside me, offering me his hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bella." He smiles gently at me.

I shake his hand and return the compliment. "And you Dr Cullen." I nod my head politely.

"Oh please, call me Carlisle. There's no need to be so formal." His smile widens and I nod to signify that I understand.

Realising I'm still holding the flapjacks, I thrust the container towards Edward. "Here, I made these for you. They're a sort of apology."

"Apology? What for?" Edward looks perplexed.

"I'm still quite uncomfortable and my knees have become inflamed overnight, so I won't be able to help you in the orchard today." I try to hide the sadness in my voice, but I'm not sure I succeed.

"Bella, don't be silly. You don't have to apologise for being unwell." He takes the container and inspects the contents, his face lighting up.

"Flapjacks, my favourite! I used to eat golden syrup by the spoonful as a kid! It's a wonder I have any teeth left – eh Dad?" Carlisle chuckles at Edward's enthusiasm. _Images of a fully grown Edward, licking golden syrup sensuously from a spoon, dance around my head._ _I almost feel myself salivating._

Edward breaks though my lascivious thoughts. "Right, I'm going to make some coffee to have with these. Dad, you have to taste Bella's baking, it's immense!" Edward leaves the room, whilst Carlisle and I stare at each other awkwardly.

"Edward mentioned to me that you've been experiencing some discomfort with your knees. Would you mind if I take a look?" Carlisle looks concerned. I have a feeling that I may have been set-up as I see an old, almost antique looking well-worn, black leather doctor's bag resting on the coffee table.

I gulp and nod without speaking, lifting my skirt to rest just above my knee. I drop my head so that my hair masks my face. I hate going to the doctors. On the rare occasion that I am unwell I try to just suffer on through. Doctors make me nervous, only once have I been to Accident & Emergency…_but_ _I don't want to think about such dark things whilst I'm at Edward's. _

Carlisle gently presses the tender area of my kneecap and I wince in pain. His hands are cold, but firm and confident. He smiles apologetically for the pain he has caused me.

"You've got quite a lot of swelling and tenderness on and around your patella on both legs. Is this a recent problem?" Carlisle continues to prod, I nod in answer to his question, unable to find my voice.

Undeterred by my silence Carlisle continues "Have you ever experienced this before Bella?" I shake my head and resign myself to speak.

"No Carlisle, never before." I look up at him and I can see compassion in his eyes. I quickly look down not wanting to hold his gaze. I'm always nervous that people can tell exactly what I'm thinking through my eyes.

Carlisle pulls my skirt back down and pats my hands, which are folded in my lap. The consultation must nearly be over.

"Bella, do you spend a lot of time kneeling? I mean cleaning hardwood or stone floors, or engaging in other activities of a repetitive nature that would be considerably labour intensive on your knees?"

"Umm, I suppose. No more than the average house-wife as far as I'm aware." I tread carefully with my answers. I hope I don't have anything seriously wrong with me, especially not this week whilst James is away. _It'd be just my rotten luck._

"I believe you have an acute case of Prepatellar Bursitis."

I raise my eyebrows, that doesn't sound good. The fear must be evident on my face.

"Oh, it sounds much worse than it is. The common name is Housemaid's Knee. It's caused by repetitive minor trauma to a specific area. You will need to keep off your feet for at least the next 48 hours and put an ice pack on the offending area. It would also be a good idea to take some Non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs, something like ibuprofen should help to reduce the swelling." Carlisle smiles warmly as my initial fear falls from my face.

Rest up for 48 hours and take painkillers, I can do that.

"Thank you for taking the time to look at me, Carlisle," my voice is meek as I thank him.

"Oh not to worry Bella, it was no trouble. My son has told me quite a lot about you. In fact he's talked about you non-stop since I got here." He chuckles mainly to himself. "You've had quite the positive effect on him, he seems quite taken with you."

Carlisle's statement confuses me, the way he talks, almost implies that Edward is interested in being more than just friends with me.

"Carlisle, can I ask you a question?" I look at him whilst wringing my hands slowly.

"Of course, Bella." He smiles reassuringly and reclines back on the sofa, crossing his legs at the knee and repositioning himself so he is facing me.

"Did Edward ask you to come and check me out?" I don't know what answer I am hoping for, but I need to know the truth.

"Strictly between you and me…" he motions between us with his hand and I nod to indicate that I understand. "Yes, yes he did call me here to offer any assistance I could." It's a comfort to know that Edward cares about me.

"One other thing….has Edward mentioned to you that I live next door with my husband?" Carlisle's eyes widen a little, he opens his mouth to speak, but, before he has a chance to answer me Edward wanders into the room with our elevenses. Everything is clinking on the tray as he places it on the coffee table.

None of the mugs on the tray match and the plate in the centre, holding the flapjacks has a minute chip to the edge. There is a stack of tea plates, as well, although one looks to be a saucer. It occurs to me that money isn't an issue for Edward, he clearly has plenty. However it is becoming apparent that he is a good old-fashioned eccentric at heart. I'm sure the chipped plate has some significance, possibly familial - why else would he still hold onto it? The lack of order and the mismatched items in Edward's house are a comfort to me, a welcome break from the structure and uniformity at my home.

Edward offers me a steaming mug of coffee and a puts a flapjack on a plate for me. He then does the same for Carlisle and has the saucer for himself. "So, what did you discuss while I was gone?" Edward smiles obliviously at us both.

Carlisle is part-way through his flapjack when he experiences a coughing fit as a result of Edward's innocent question He holds up his hand in apology and reaches in his trouser pocket for a hanky, which he uses to cover his mouth and stifle his coughing. Edward simply shrugs at me and takes a huge bite of his flapjack. He moans as he chews slowly, his tongue darting out to lick his lower lip, savouring the syrupy, sugary deliciousness…_at least that's what I imagine he feels. _

As Carlisle's coughs die down, Edward addresses him directly.

"So Dad, what do you think of Bella's exceptional baking?" I blush at his praise and obvious bias.

"I think it is delicious and I'd love to get the recipe sometime for Esme." Carlisle looks at me as he speaks.

"Certainly, I'll write it out for you and leave it with Edward." I take a nibble from the corner of my own flapjack.

"So….Dad…Did you have a chance to look at Bella's knees?" Edward sounds almost sheepish.

"I gave Bella a brief examination. I believe she has Prepatellar Bursitis." Carlisle relays the details matter-of-factly.

"Prepatellar Bursitis? What's that? It sounds serious." Edward's concern is palpable.

"Edward, calm yourself. The common name is Housemaid's knee. Bella just needs to keep off her feet for the next couple of days. Painkillers and cooling the area with ice would be advantageous also." Carlisle looks amused by Edward's unnecessary distress, as he takes another bite.

"Could working in the orchard have caused it? I'm so sorry, Bella, if I pushed you too much." Edward looks distraught.

"Edward-"

"No, of course not!"

Carlisle and I both speak at the same time. I look at him and he nods for me to continue.

"Edward, it wasn't the orchard. It was a result of all the housework I've been doing." His face softens as he digests my words.

"Phew! Worried I was working you too hard there, my little apprentice." Edward grins cheekily at me.

"Pfft, apprentice? I taught you all you know." I retort in mock disgust, returning his grin, looking at him and getting lost in his eyes.

Carlisle clears his throat and we both look away from each other guiltily.

"Excuse me, I just need to use the bathroom." I rise slowly from the sofa and begin to make my way to the toilet in the hallway. Edward rises to help me, but I wave him off.

When I make it into the bathroom I lean back against the closed door and take some deep cleansing breaths. I can still hear Edward and Carlisle's voices although they are somewhat muffled.

"_Edward, you never told me she was married." Carlisle's voice sounds exasperated. _

"_I don't really see what difference it makes, we're friends – it bears no relevance."_

"_I just don't want to see you getting hurt again, you seem very fond of her."_

"_Yes, I do care for her, but just as friends!" _

"_Are you sure about that Edward? Who are you trying to convince? Me? Or yourself?" _

I'm not brave enough to wait for his answer, I take the opportunity to flush the toilet and run the taps, splashing cold water on my face, the noise blocking them out. I look at my hands, they're shaking. Carlisle's words have shocked me. Does he really think that Edward is attracted to me?

I finish up and make my way out of the bathroom. Edward and Carlisle are both stood in the hallway, Carlisle has his doctor's bag under one arm and a couple of pieces of flapjack wrapped in kitchen roll in the same hand. They stop speaking and turn to look at me, with forced smiles spread over their faces.

"Bella, it was lovely to meet you and I wish you a speedy recovery." I walk towards Carlisle and offer my thanks.

"Thank you, Carlisle. I really appreciate your help I'll be sure to get plenty of rest." He leans over and squeezes my shoulder with his free hand. He nods at Edward and gives him an awkward one-armed hug before reaching for the door handle and letting himself out.

Edward and I stand in silence as we listen for the sound of Carlisle driving off in his car.

"Will James take care of everything for you? Or do you need anything before he gets home from work?" Edward turns to look at me as he speaks, his voice sounds distant, his hands are stuffed in his jean pockets and his shoulders are hunched.

"Uh J-James is away in London for the next five days – at a work conference." I shrug as I look at Edward. I sense a change in his demeanour and he seems to brighten at my words.

"Well, there's no point both of us rattling around in these houses on our own for the next few days. Let's get you home and settled, then I can cook dinner for us both tonight - if that's ok with you?" Edward's eyes shine and he breaks into a crooked grin; dimples forming in his cheeks.

"Yes, that sounds wonderful." I beam and walk towards him. I manage to take two steps before Edward scoops me up, one arm around my waist and the other supporting my legs. I wrap my arms around his neck and cling on for dear life.

"Edward, please put me down! You'll drop me. I'm far too heavy for you to carry." I protest and try to wriggle, but he holds me flush against his chest, whilst wrestling with the door.

"Bella, you weigh nothing. The only reason I'm likely to drop you is if you keep wriggling." He reprimands me lightly and walks us through the door into the garden, kicking the front door shut behind him.

X-X-X-X-X

I'm nestled on the sofa-bed that Edward has pulled out, my legs outstretched, an ice-pack on each knee. I can hear Edward pottering around my kitchen, he's cooking us dinner. I've no idea what he is whipping up, he went out to the supermarket while I was resting this afternoon. I hear the occasional clang of pans and a knife on the chopping board.

Just as I'm trying to determine what he might be concocting, I hear Edward come into the room. He's wearing my Cath Kidson floral apron, with a tea towel folded over his forearm. He's holding a glass of red wine and there's just the right amount of room in the glass for the liquid to breathe.

"Here, have a glass of wine while you wait madam." Edward offers the wine to me and I take it from him giggling.

"Thank you sir." I take a small sip, it's delicious, just the right temperature. It's a full-bodied rich wine and I can taste the sour cherries and oakiness as it slides down my throat. "Mmmm, it's delicious. Is it a Barolo?" I enquire. Edward nods, a lazy smile spreading across his face. I dread to think what it has cost him.

"How do you like your steak cooked?" Edward asks as he leans on the arm of the sofa.

"That depends, what cut is it?" I smile back at him, enjoying how comfortable he is in this house.

"It's fillet. Only the best for madam."

"Oooh divine, I'll have it on the rare side of medium please." I look at Edward over my glass and take another sip.

"As you wish." Edward doffs an imaginary cap and skips out of the room.

X-X-X-X-X

The steak and chips complete with béarnaise sauce and roasted pomodorino tomatoes on the vine were delicious. I hum with pleasure as I drain the last of my glass of wine. Edward is in the kitchen tending to the dishes. _I feel like royalty. _

He walks into the room, holding the remainder of the bottle of wine and smirks at me.

"So, what are we going to do now?" He gazes at me expectantly.

I gulp.

"Scrabble?"

It's the first thing that pops into my mind, but it's not an altogether bad idea. Edward tops up my glass first and then his, setting the wine on the table.

"Sure, why not." He smiles at me and it's so comfortable and easy, a relaxing evening in together.

Good food, good wine and great company..._it's just a shame it's only for one week._

**A/n Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Come and check out the Orchard, I occasionally post picture clues and teasers there: www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=9753&hilit=A+form+of+escapism**

**If you want to make some flapjacks, this recipe is the best one out there in my humble opinion: http:/ duramecho(dot)com/Food/Flapjack/ and for all my American friends that have no idea what Golden Syrup is : http:/ duramecho(dot)com/Food/Flapjack/#GoldenSyrup **

**And finally, this is an Aran Jumper www(dot)simplyirish(dot)com/ProdImages/carraig-donn/Mens-Aran-jumper-a825p(dot)jpg**

**Also check out this interview between me and Quietruby hosted by the one and only Snowqueens Icedragon: www(dot)southernfanfictionreview(dot)com/2010/06/interview-snowqueens-icedragon-meets(dot)html**

**I am on holiday next weekend, so I don't think I will be posting until after next Sunday as I will probably be up a mountain. **


	12. Chapter 12

**A/n: All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, I'm just having fun with them in the Orchard! I'd like to thank xoEMC and Jaustenlover for their input and patience in the making of this chapter. A belated Happy Birthday to xoEMC!**

**Also would like to mention all the lovely ladies I will be meeting this weekend, some again and some for the first time, hi to snowqueens icedragon, barnesgirl11, afoolishmortal, shinyvolvolurv, pearl421 and babsiebaby. Cannot wait all!**

Chapter 12

We are on our third game of Scrabble and it's the decider. Edward is currently debating my use of the word 'mycophobia.' It's been so long since I've played Scrabble. James isn't interested in board-games, he says they're childish. I secretly think it's because he knows I would beat him at most of them.

James has been gone less than 24 hours and I can physically feel myself relaxing. I don't have to be so concerned with where I leave things, or whether the toilet roll needs replenishing. I must be careful not to get too comfortable. For, when he returns everything must return to normal. _His beady eyes never miss a thing._

"Bella, it's not a word! It doesn't exist." Edward's voice rises in exasperation, breaking through my musings. He pours over his copy of the Collins Dictionary of English, the very copy that he went home to retrieve in an effort to further prove his point. I shake my head tiredly; I personally think Edward is only annoyed because he laid phobia and I preceded it with myco.

"It is a word; it means a fear of mushrooms!" I look at him haughtily, waiting for him to bow down to my superior knowledge.

"Fear of mushrooms! How do I even know you're telling the truth?" Edward challenges me, raising one eyebrow.

"Well if you had a decent dictionary, something like the OED perhaps you'd find it in there," I answer him smugly, straightening my back and crossing my arms in front of my chest.

Edward looks at me witheringly. "Only someone like my Dad would set aside the shelf-space necessary for all 23 volumes of the Oxford English Dictionary." I laugh at this - having met Carlisle, I wouldn't be surprised if he had the entire Encyclopaedia Britannica as well.

"Besides, it's not the OED we need to check. We need the SOWPODS." I look despairingly at Edward. I know exactly to what he is referring. _He cannot be serious! _

"Edward, the day I play Scrabble and use the tournament wordlist is the day I officially give up the will to live! It's a game...which is supposed to be fun!" I huff at him, sliding my four tiles off the board and placing them back in the rack. I've really begun to stand my ground with Edward, perhaps becauseperhaps because he treats me as his equal. It reminds me of when James and I first met; we would debate all manner of subjects for hours over a bottle of wine. It feels like a lifetime ago, nothing seems to excite him anymore.

"I appreciate that Bella, but I find it entertaining to play a game properly and by the rules, whilst also making use of all the available resources." Edward looks across at me superciliously.

"If that's the case, then why don't you possess a copy of the SOWPODS?" I smirk back at Edward and sit back in my seat confidently. _My work here is done._

Edward reaches a hand to the back of his neck and scratches it, he looks at me sheepishly. "Umm, Emmett and I got into a fight over Scrabble last Christmas...my only copy ended up in the fire and I haven't replaced it yet." I can barely control my amusement; I break into peals of laughter.

"What did you fall out over?" I manage to speak between giggles.

"I don't even remember, that's the worst thing. But it was bloody important at the time and like this time, I know I was right!" Edward takes a sip of his wine, and looks at me over the top of his glass. We're on our second bottle – thankfully Edward has made more of a dent in it than me.

I check over my array of letters and decide to make a different word, using the 'i' from 'phobia,' I lay F, S and T to spell FIST. I smile at Edward and fish around in the little green cloth bag to collect three new tiles. It's not a huge score, but it'll do.

I take a sip of my wine as I watch Edward add three tiles to the word I just created. I can see his shoulders shaking lightly as though he is struggling not to laugh. I wait for him to finish so that I can get a clear view. As I read what he has put down, I spray my entire mouthful of wine all over the board... FISTING. Edward erupts and starts laughing whole-heartedly with me, his body shaking.

I don't know what to say. I wipe my mouth on my sleeve and look at Edward, shaking my head reproachfully. I have tears of laughter forming in the corners of my eyes and I am struggling to breathe. My cheeks have reddened in sheer embarrassment at the word he has laid.

I manage to speak, "So you can't beat me with your lexicological talents alone, you have to pull out the big guns and play 'rude word' Scrabble?" I place my wine on the table and cross my arms, a big smile spread over my face.

"You have to admit, it was funny!" Edward tries to wipe the board with a napkin that was left out after dinner. Tiles get knocked everywhere, which makes me laugh all over again.

"I think we'll have to declare this a draw and have a re-match sometime." I tip my remaining tiles into the bag and reach for the Scrabble box to start clearing everything away. I must remember to clean it all before he gets back. There's a slim chance that James might get to it before me. He never used to be so tyrannical.

"Good idea. I'll get a new copy of the SOWPODS for next time. Pft, mycophobia indeed!" Edward smirks at me and I resist the strong urge to launch something at his head.

We work quickly and tidy everything away, Edward does the majority of the work. He barely lets me move. I haven't laughed this much in an age and it saddens me. Spending more time with Edward, I can't help but analyse things with James. I can't remember the last time he did something nice for me or made any small gestures to show he still cares. Why am I constantly comparing Edward to James though? James is my husband and Edward is a friend. The two are not akin. _Am I just guilty of the grass is greener syndrome? _

Edward can never be anything more, and he doesn't want to be; he's looking purely for friendship. Perhaps I should talk to James about my worries regarding the rut our relationship has found itself in. I'm still hopeful for glimpses of the man I fell in love with. I want us to succeed, it's not in my nature to fail at anything. I'll make it work. He's all I have.

Edward helps me settle on the sofa bed and I stretch my legs out before me. He replenishes my glass of wine and then his own. Setting the bottle on the table, he then hands a glass to me.

I take the glass and snuggle down further in the cushions on the sofa bed. Edward passes me his wine glass to hold as a he carries out a strange shuffling move from the bottom of the bed until he comes to sit next to me. He sits upright, but his legs mimic mine. I pass him his wine and he clinks his glass with mine.

I smile at him and take a sip, looking down at my socked feet and wiggling my toes. I'm so contented and having so much fun relaxing with Edward. _We make quite the pair. _

"How are you knees feeling now?" Edward asks concern evident on his face. _He's so thoughtful._

"I'd almost forgotten about them I was having so much fun!" I smile at Edward shyly and lift my skirt a little to get a look at my knees, trying not to show too much flesh. They look a lot less angry than earlier and some of the swelling has reduced. I'm so displeased with James; his obsession with cleanliness is the reason why I'm in this state. I'm going to have to buy a mop and find somewhere to hide it.

"Does it hurt to touch?" Edward asks his hand hovering above my knees. I shake my head, waiting with nervous anticipation to feel his hands on me.

"Not really, it's more movement that seems to aggravate it." His hand comes down in a feather-light touch to stroke my knee delicately. His hands are so soft and tender as he continues to stroke each knee. I experience a tingling sensation when his hand connects with my skin. It feels so foreign for someone's touch to excite me like this. He stirs up so many improper emotions within me. I'm married and I don't want to be attracted to Edward, but sometimes I cannot help myself. I feel so conflicted. I close my eyes and part my lips, letting out a small sigh.

Edward clears his throat. My eyes snap open and I blush furiously, he's looking right at me. Edward pulls my skirt down and sits back. _Control yourself Bella, you're being entirely inappropriate. If you carry on like this you'll frighten him away._

"Do you fancy watching some television?" Edward asks reaching for the remote control, staring straight-ahead, clearly trying to put some distance between us.

I shrug dejectedly, "Sure why not." I take a large gulp of wine, beginning to feel the effects of my two glasses as it relaxes every muscle in my body. I rarely drink, James doesn't like me to. Edward relaxes and stretches his arm out along the back of the sofa -bed. He's quite close and I can feel the body heat radiating off of him. _Oh I'd love to curl up into his side and have him wrap that arm around me. It's been so long since I've been cuddled._

Edward stops flicking through channels when he comes across something to watch, _Casablanca_. He turns to look at me, "This ok?" It's such a change from the news or sports channels that usually blare out from this television. _A romantic, James isn't._

I nod at him and we both settle back to watch the film. It's already about half way through, but I've seen it so many times before it doesn't matter. I guess the same is true of Edward.

I reach across and switch off the table-lamp, bathing the room in darkness except for the light from the television. Edward turns to me and smiles, before giving the screen his full attention.

X-X-X-X-X

"Bella...Bella..."

My eyes flutter open, I must've fallen asleep. My head rests on Edward's shoulder and he is stroking my hair. Running his fingers through the thick locks, he lingers on the tips as he lets it fall from his fingers. Again and again, it's calming. His fingers scratch my scalp deftly, it's so..._arousing_.

The lights are all out thankfully so he cannot see my blush, a direct result of my impure thoughts. The glow from the television lights up Edward's face, highlighting his strong profile and that delicious jaw-line, complete with a couple of day's stubble. I know we're friends, but I still find him as attractive as the first time I saw his picture on the back cover of his debut novel.

"Ah you're awake, sleepy-head." He stops stroking my hair and pats my upper arm gently.

Reluctantly I remove my head from his shoulder and peel my body away from his warmth. I raise my arms above my head. Arching my back, I stretch, yawning not so quietly at the same time.

"How long have I been asleep?" I ask, looking at the television for some sort of clue.

"Well, Rick just told Ilsa to get on the plane. So...you pretty much missed the rest of the film," Edward answers good-naturedly.

I sigh, "I'm sorry Edward, I didn't realise how tired I was...I blame the wine. I'm not much of a drinker." I smile embarrassingly at him. Well not anymore, during my university days, James and I were in the local so often, we became regulars.

"No matter, you must've needed the sleep." Edward sits up a little straighter on the sofa.

"I'm sorry for falling asleep on you." I stare at the television. I can't keep forgetting myself around him like I do.

"Don't be, I'm not." I turn to look at Edward and he's smiling sadly, looking into the distance, his eyes shining. _Does he feel something too?_

"Is everything ok?" I rest my hand on his arm, squeezing it gently.

"Yeah, I'm just being a sentimental old fool. Sitting here with you sleeping against me just reminded me of Tanya." He shakes his head solemnly. _Oh of course, Tanya._

I shuffle closer to Edward's side and slip under his arm wrapping myself around his torso. Resting my head on his chest, I speak softly, "I'm sorry Edward, I didn't think. James and I never sit like this." I try to comfort him, to be there for him, like he has for me.

Edward scoffs, "If you were mine, I'd sit like this with you all the time." He squeezes me and then drapes his arm over my shoulders. I beam at the compliment. _Does he mean that? Or after time, would he change like James has? Is that partly to blame for why he and Tanya ended so badly?_ _Are all men the same?_

I snuggle into his side further. I'm sure it's wrong, but it's so comfortable and perfectly normal for two friends to hug. _Isn't it? _

The phone rings, making me jump and I leap away from Edward like I have been burnt. I wince as I am reminded of my damn knees, which have cramped a little since I fell asleep. I reach out a shaky hand and lift the phone receiver. I put a finger to my lips, an instruction for Edward to be quiet. He nods and crosses his arms.

I speak nervously into the receiver. It's so late, the only person it could possibly be is James, or the police.

"Hello?"

"Hello Isabella." At the sound of his voice, I instantly feel myself straightening up and tipping my shoulders back. My spare hand flies to my hair to check it's presentable. It's not as though he can see me through the phone, but his voice invokes such reactions.

"James, how is the conference?" I try to inject some faux enthusiasm into my voice. I watch Edward and notice a shift in his body language, he looks uncomfortable.

"Going well, Isabella, going well. I've made lots of contacts. I'm just having some down-time in my hotel room." I roll my eyes at the phone. A smile plays at the corners of Edward's mouth. I try to suppress my own urge to giggle.

"That's good." I'm unsure of what else to say.

"Are you in bed? Do you miss me?" He sounds like he has been drinking.

"Yes, I miss you." I look Edward directly in the eye as I answer James.

"Do you have anything planned tomorrow? Helping in your precious orchard I assume." I bite my tongue to stop the swathe of insults that are just begging to come forth.

"Yes, I imagine I'll be helping Edward in the orchard tomorrow." Edward looks taken aback, I simply shrug.

"I think you should go to bed now, you sound tired." I try my best to cut the conversation short without making him suspicious.

"Isabella, are you alone?" I'm shocked by his question. _Surely there's no way he could know…has someone said something? One of the neighbours...oh my , I never check the tabloids, has Edward been photographed with me?_

"Of course I'm alone. I'm hurt you would even ask me that," I speak confidently, desperately trying to suppress the rising panic in my belly. I suddenly feel nauseous..

"Sorry, you're right. I don't know what I was thinking." James sounds almost remorseful.

"It's fine, James." I resist the strong urge to breathe a sigh of sheer relief.

"Good night, Isabella, I love you." Yes he's definitely been drinking. I look at Edward and I can't bring myself to say the words back to James with him in the room.

"Yes, you too. Sleep well."

With that I prepare to hang-up, just before I replace the receiver I hear James speaking on the other end of the line, "- I'll be right there Victoria…" and then the line goes dead.

_Victoria? _

_Who is Victoria?_

I clutch the phone tightly. I feel the colour drain from face – _does James have a woman back at his hotel room? Is it purely innocent like Edward and me?_ A colleague, yes that's who it must be. James is lots of things, but he's not a philanderer. I'm sure it's perfectly innocent. It is a last minute trip, they have to share rooms to keep the price down. James probably had no idea until he got there and he hasn't mentioned it, because it is irrelevant.

"Is everything ok?" Edward interrupts my thoughts.

"Umm, yeah I think so." I pick the phone up again and dial 1471 to get the caller's id. The android on the other end of the line tells me that the number is unknown. Of course, it's a business line. I'm sure the number is withheld automatically. Edward watches me intently as I silently work through everything in my mind. Something just doesn't sit right with me, but it's nothing concrete more like a feeling of unease deep in my gut.

"Are you sure?" Edward places his hand gently on my thigh.

"Yeah, I think so. I'm sorry you had to be here during that phone call and I'm sorry I lied to James in front of you." There's no point telling Edward about 'Victoria.' What would I say? That I think James is having an affair based on the fact he had a woman in the room and didn't tell me? _Aren't I doing the exact same thing?_ Guilt courses through me. _Oh God, what am I doing spending all this time with Edward? _I'm married! It will all have to stop when James returns. Maybe that is for the best, I reflect sadly.

"It doesn't matter. I can understand why you didn't tell him I was here. He'd probably assume the worst even though everything is purely innocent." I look down at Edward's hand resting on my thigh. _Is everything purely innocent? I'm not sure it is on my part, I feel so torn between my feelings and my commitments. _

"Why didn't you tell him about your legs and the orchard?" Edward looks puzzled.

"I was worried that if I told James he'd cut his trip short and he really doesn't need to do that. One more day of resting and I'll be fine. It's immaterial." I know James would have no intention of coming home. I just don't want him to know that he has made it difficult for me to help Edward. He'd get a sick pleasure from it. _Sometimes I truly wonder if James even loves me anymore._

This seems to satisfy Edward. I'm pleased he agrees with me about not telling James. Edward looks at his watch and then across at me.

"It's getting late, Bella. I should leave and let you go to bed," Edward speaks, but doesn't move from the sofa bed. He seems as reluctant to go as I am to see him leave.

"Yes, I suppose you're right. Can you wait a few minutes whilst I change for bed?"

"Sure. Can I get you anything before I go?" He looks at me expectantly.

"I'd love a glass of water." I smile at him as I rise from the sofa, gathering up my nightwear. I go to the downstairs bathroom and change into my long-sleeved cotton nightdress. It leaves everything to the imagination and I usually wear it in an effort to ward off James.

I feel self-conscious wearing something so…frumpy and old in front of Edward, which is just silly. I've no idea why he makes me feel this way. I always want to look my best around him. I clean my teeth and run a brush through my hair. All of the items were moved here by Edward earlier. I barely had to ask, he is so helpful and thinks of everything. I must be sure to remove all traces for when James returns.

I leave the bathroom and wander into the hallway, I pause as I walk past the set of hooks that hold all of the keys associated with the house. The spare key stares back at me, I reach out a hand and lift it off the hook. It's perfectly normal for your neighbour to have a spare key, in case someone gets locked out perhaps. Mrs Roberts had a spare key… I'd also feel safer if Edward had a spare key.

I enter the front room and see Edward with his back to me plumping up my pillows and turning down the covers on the sofa-bed. I smile at his thoughtfulness and make my way across the room. I place a hand gently on his shoulder. He turns and smiles at me, straightening up to his full height.

"Edward, you didn't have to do all this." I gesture at the bed.

"It's nice to have someone to look after, Bella. It's been just me, for so long." He looks sad and it just confirms to me how right I am about the key. I decide to present him with it now, hoping it cheers him up; maybe even makes him feel needed, useful.

"Well thank you, it's really appreciated. Umm, Edward, I wanted to give you this." I dangle the single key in front of him coyly.

"What's this?" He looks surprised.

"It's a spare key, I think it would be useful for you to have one. I used to leave a spare with Mrs Roberts before. I just think it makes sense," I finish justifying my decision, to him as well as myself.

"Ok. Are you sure James won't mind?" Edward looks dubious. _Oh dear, I'm not as good at hiding the dynamic between James and me as I thought._

"I'm positive he won't mind." _If I ever get round to telling him._

I try to stifle a yawn and look at Edward apologetically.

"Someone's tired. Let's get you into bed and then I can let myself out using my new key." He grins widely and pats the sofa-bed. I climb in slowly as Edward lifts the covers and then tucks me in. He strokes my hair and kisses me on my forehead; his actions make me feel like a treasured child. His lips linger and I feel his sweet breath flutter over my closed eyes.

"Sleep well, my little Bella," he whispers in my ear and then switches off the table lamp. I smile contentedly and allow myself this little moment of happiness. Wrapping my arms around myself I listen to Edward walk from the room, leaving the house and locking the door behind him. With his own key. I fall to sleep immediately, a contented smile on my face.

**A/n: Well thanks all, hope it didn't disappoint! Please review I love getting them! Sorry I don't reply to more of them! Come over and check out the orchard I try to post picture clues and teasers for each chapter... www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=9753&start=0&st=0&sk=t&sd=a&hilit=A+form+of+escapism**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/n: Hello all! Sorry for the slight delay with this chapter, real-life impacted my posting schedule again! I believe the last chapter had a few mistakes, which I would like to apologise for. It appears they were caused by errors during the upload as they did not appear in my word document. **

**Anyway enough of that, this chapter contains some mild references to physical child abuse (not flashbacks, just inner-musings shall we say), I just wanted to warn people from the off. All chapter belong to Ms Meyers. Thanks to my wonderful Beta xoEMC and Jaustenlover for her pre-reading. Please enjoy.  
**

Chapter 13

I slowly dry every inch of my body. I have just indulged in quite possibly the longest shower ever. All my muscles are thoroughly relaxed and I feel as clean as a whistle. The room is full of steam. I almost cannot see my hand in front of my face. I take a towel from the heated rail and wrap it around my body; I place another round my hair. I open the bathroom window to clear the room.

I'm feeling infinitely better. The swelling in my knees is all but gone and the tenderness is barely worth mentioning. I can almost walk normally again. Hopefully I can indulge in some orchard time this week before James' return.

I rose early this morning because I got so much sleep yesterday. It almost certainly has something to do with the fact I slept alone. No snoring to keep me awake and no fear of late-night fondling makes for a well-rested Bella.

I walk across the landing to the bedroom that James and I share, noticing how my mobility improves with each step. I open the doors on the antique, mahogany double-wardrobe and stare at the contents. It belonged to my parents. I remember we had a nightmare trying to get in the house.

I didn't want to keep it, but James was insistent. As a child, I was never allowed to go into my parent's bedroom. I have no idea what the punishment would have been had I dared to defy them. I was an incredibly meek child. Somehow this wardrobe still harbours some of my irrational childhood fears.

If an item of furniture could ever haunt me, then this would be it.

I stare at the contents. The right-hand side of the wardrobe houses all of James' clothing. It's almost like looking at the wardrobe of a comic-strip character. Rows and rows of the exact same outfit in a variety of shades stares back at me. An array of freshly laundered and neatly ironed pastel coloured polyester shirts hang from the rail. Accompanying them are a few jackets, which have seen better days. I have repaired the viscose linings and replaced buttons on more than one occasion.

His trousers and a few pairs of jeans are folded on one of the two shelves. The other shelf houses his shoes, neatly laid out in pairs. His garments alone, take up over half of the wardrobe, leaving me with a small section to store my meagre things. I take a patterned tea dress off one of the hangers and lay it on the bed. Walking to my chest of drawers, I select a set of matching underwear and a pair of opaque tights.

I undo the towel and let it tumble to my ankles; I shiver as the coolness of the room ghosts over my bare skin. I bend my legs to slip on my undergarments and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the dresser. I look over my left shoulder and stare at my back; I feel my eyes moisten instantly.

A catalogue of scars stare back at me. They range from 14 years old and no longer physically painful, to a couple of months old. I wipe my nose on the back of my hand and continue to dress. Sniffing back tears, I slip my tea dress over my head. I don't know why seeing them still upsets me so much. You think I'd be used to it by now. I can barely remember a time when I didn't have at least some of them.

_They make me feel so ugly; I'd love to feel beautiful just once_.

I shove my feet into the battered Chelsea loafers. This week has provided a welcome respite from the fashion heels James likes me to wear. With a heavy sigh, I turn my attention to towel-drying my hair.

X-X-X-X-X

I decide to tackle the mountain of clothes that has piled up in the laundry room. I am working through the third load and still trying to establish where it all came from. The radio is playing much more loudly than usual and the back door is open allowing the breeze to air the house via the kitchen. I sometimes wish I was the type of person that could put everything off whilst James is away and then engage in a mad cleaning spree ready for his return. The need to maintain a tidy living environment is so deeply ingrained. _What would I do if he returned early?_

I learnt as a child that order and structure are important. My Father was a hard taskmaster; Mother said he loved me in his own way. Sometimes I used to wish for a brother or sister, just to take some of the pressure off.

I always thought that if he had another child, preferably a boy – I believe he always wanted a boy - he might not have been so concerned with waiting for me to disappoint him. _He didn't often have to wait long._

Shutting the door to the laundry room behind me to drone out the sound of the washing machine, I enter the kitchen. Opening the cupboard under the sink, I gather all of the implements needed to dust the house. I know Carlisle told me to rest for a couple of days, but I'm just not the kind of person that can sit around when there are things that need to be done. I must admit that James' omnipresent nature is also a driving force.

I have one chapter remaining of Edward's manuscript, which I hope to get through tonight so I can present him with my feedback. Honestly, I have been putting it off. The nervousness I feel is similar to sitting an important exam. I am expecting to fail. Expecting Edward to be polite about my observations, but internally wishing he had never asked me to read it. I really do not want to look foolish in front of him. My fear of failure almost makes me want to hand the manuscript back and tell him I can't help. _But I can't do that to him._

I certainly don't want him to ask someone else for assistance.. Nor would I want to leave him purely at his editor Jane's mercy. She sounds like a complete dragon. No, Edward needs me and I should just step up to the task.

During this time of reflection, I find myself dusting off the shelf that holds all of our photograph albums. The bulk of them belonged to my parents and are easily identifiable. They're leather bound and look every bit as old as they really are. The contents cover a spectrum of familial events, ranging from childhood photos of family holidays to birthdays and Christmases. I linger on one album that I recognise immediately. I know the contents by heart. My fingers tremble as I stroke the spine.

Taking it from the shelf, I settle on the edge of the sofa bed, which I really must tidy away. I'm certain I'll be able to sleep upstairs as normal tonight. I open the cover of the album and listen to the cracking sound the spine makes. _It's been so long since I looked at these. _

My fingers slide back the sheet of tissue paper to get to the first page of the album. A younger me stares back with bright eyes and a huge smile spread across my face. I have a huge backpack on my shoulders and a few boxes at my feet. I have fond memories of the jeans and grape coloured Converse sneakers I'm wearing. It's my first term at Reading University and I'm moving into my halls of residence. I smile and stroke the picture lightly. This girl looks so full of hope; I almost struggle to associate myself with the young woman. _Things are so different now, but I'm sure for the best._

I was much braver then, moving out of home was a huge step for me. Father wasn't keen; he wanted me to commute for all of my classes. I will never know how Mother managed to persuade him. Usually when his mind was made up, it couldn't be changed.

Leafing through the album I come across more photos from my university days. I stop when I get to a picture of James, looking so much younger. Yet it has only been a few years. His hair is longer and tied in a ponytail at the neck; nothing like the short-back and sides he has now. A smile graces his lips as he relaxes against the door-frame wearing a white t-shirt and faded jeans. He reminded me a little of Kurt Cobain in those days and I felt so cool when he asked me to go on a date. I smile at the memory; the giddy feeling of first love; a sweet sickness in the pit of my stomach, desperately making sure I was on time and looking my best.

I sit looking through all of the albums for an age. I stumble across one from my childhood that strikes a particular chord with me. I find myself welling up with tears as I look at the picture of my Mother and me. I was 11 years old and had been crying, as evidenced by my blotchy cheeks and puffy eyes.

I remember the day well. My Mother had one arm wrapped around me, the other grasping my wrist. My hair is tied in bunches and I'm wearing my Sunday best; a little patterned dress with white socks pulled up to my knees and polished black Mary-Janes. I look as though I am trying to pull away from her. This helps to explain the restraining hand at my wrist.

I had been crying because it was the first time that my Father had beaten me. We were having guests to dinner, but I was hungry and couldn't wait. So I helped myself to some chocolate that I found. I had no idea it was intended to go with the coffee after the meal. I was always put to bed by that point.

He took his belt to me, pulled my dress up and smacked the tops of my legs. The sting of the leather and the cracking sound all comes back to me. I was so little, so defenceless. I didn't understand. I find myself crying hysterically as I rock back and forth.

To this day, I still don't know why he took a photo of me afterwards. He never did that for all of the other times. Part of me yearns to rip the photograph from the album and tear it into a million pieces. A little voice in my head talks me out of it. Destroying the evidence won't erase the memory. My tears fall on the page and I take the hem of my dress and use it to wipe the album clean.

I reach for a tissue from the box on the coffee table and blow my nose loudly. A knock at the door causes me to tense up. I take some deep breaths, fanning my face to try and reduce the redness. I rise from the sofa bed and place the photo album on the spot where I was sitting.

I walk to the door and open it. Edward stands before me, hands shoved in his jean pockets, grinning widely until he sees that I have been crying. His face falls and he looks at me anxiously.

"Bella, have you been crying?"

I take a step back so that Edward can enter; I dab at my eyes with the tissue and blow my nose again. _No point trying to hide it now. _

"I was just looking through some old photo albums. I came across several of my parents I haven't seen in a while and I got a tad emotional. It's silly, really." I shrug nonchalantly as I shut the door behind him.

It is a small lie, but there's no point burdening Edward with the disappointment that was my childhood. I'd bet money that he had a wonderful childhood. Carlisle seems like such a gentle man, not to mention the fact that he has siblings to bond with. It's not Edward's fault that he was raised well, but I still find myself feeling envious.

"Come here." Edward opens his arms and I step into them gladly. He wraps himself around me, cradling me to his chest. One hand strokes my hair; the other wraps around my back and rubs my upper-arm soothingly. His chin rests on my head and I feel it move against my scalp as he speaks.

"I don't think you're silly in the slightest." He gives me a final squeeze and takes a step back. Smiling at me comfortingly.

"Thanks, I needed that." I smile back at him.

"So, did you call round for any particular reason? Not that you need a reason," I ramble on, becoming nervous, not wanting to sound rude. I walk toward the kitchen, motioning for Edward to follow me.

"Well, I called round to see if you are feeling any better." Edward nods at me as I hold up the kettle to ask if he would like a hot drink.

"And while I can see that you're back on your feet, I am displeased to find you in tears." Edward smiles at me benevolently.

I busy myself adding English breakfast tea leaves to the teapot. I look over my shoulder at Edward and speak.

"I really am fine. My emotions just got the better of me, but I'm fine now."

Edward nods and takes a seat at the table.

"I can see that Bella, but now I feel obliged to cheer you up. So…." He grins at me clearly trying to reel me in.

"So…" I look at him enquiringly.

"So, I wondered if you would like to go out for dinner tonight? I thought we could go into Oxford. We shouldn't have a problem with booking; it is a school night after all." Edward looks pleased with himself as he sits back, observing me.

I try to keep my face a blank canvas, but inside my head is spinning. _Dinner with Edward! Oh god James will not like this one bit. I could phone him and tell him that Edward and I are going out for a bite to eat. Make it seem low-key. Phone him – how exactly will you do that, Bella? Damn, I don't have a number for him, or even the name of a hotel. _

_There's nothing suspicious about Edward taking me somewhere for food. Perhaps I could offer to pay towards the bill. Oh I don't know what to do, something about it feels wrong, but I'm sure an evening out with him would be so much fun. As long as I tell James whenever he next phones I can't foresee a problem. If he calls after it has happened what can he do? I'll just be honest with him. It'll be fine. I hope._

The whistling of the kettle interrupts my ruminations and I turn off the gas.

I find my previous determination dissolving already. _Oh this really is quite the dilemma._ I want to go; I haven't had a night out in an extremely long time. I also love going into Oxford. The architecture makes it such a beautiful city. _What would I wear? Exactly how famous is Edward? How much attention does he demand when he goes out? _I realise I'm staring at him quite intensely as I pose all of these questions in my mind.

Edward looks down at himself and then looks back up at me.

"What?" He asks, a look of complete confusion on his face.

"Nothing. Sorry I was away with the fairies!" I force a smile at him.

"So what do you think to dinner?" He leans forward eager for my answer_. If I were to say no, I can see that it would crush him. However, saying no would be the most sensible and safe option as far as James is concerned. The problem is, I want to go. He clearly wants to go as badly as I do, he blatantly craves the human company as well. My mind is made up for me. Possibly, to my own detriment._

"Yes, Edward, I'd love to go to dinner with you." I smile determinedly. I fill the teapot with water, give it a stir, replace the lid and cover it with a tea-cosy. _It'll be fine. I'll have a nice time and nothing bad will happen._

"Excellent, I know just the place. I'll book a table." He looks like a child on Christmas morning and his good humour is almost infectious.

We drink our tea together, chatting idly about a manner of subjects. The dark subject matter of the photo albums is long forgotten. After an hour or so Edward rises to leave. I walk him to the door and he turns to speak to me.

"So I'll pick you up at six? It'll take about an hour to get to Oxford." I nod at Edward.

"I'll be ready. I'm really looking forward to it." Edward smiles at me, turns, and walks down the garden path.

"Me too! Oh and wear something nice." He waves and shuts the gate behind him.

I freeze, he sounds so much like James with that one sentence. I shake my head. _Don't be silly, it's just a turn of phrase. He's nothing like James. When was the last time James took you out to eat? Or hugged you, just to make you feel better? _

I suppress my inner voice and concentrate on what I'm going to wear. _What does he mean by nice? The sort of clothes James likes?_ I don't think I could wear anything that provocative, not in public. No, I need to wear what I feel comfortable in. Edward is a friend and he's been nothing but accepting of me. I'm sure whatever I pick will be fine.

In a blind panic I dash upstairs to look through the wardrobe.

X-X-X-X-X

I managed to find the dress that I wore to James' last Christmas party. It's a dark blue shift dress with cap sleeves and a deep round neckline. I fasten the belt around the middle that cinches in my waist. I wear a little more make-up than usual, taking care to apply eyeliner and pale pink lipstick.

I fasten my mother's pearls around my neck; they go perfectly with the neckline of the dress. I look at myself in the mirror and give my hair a light mist of hairspray. I managed to tame it with some hair-straighteners; it now looks sleeker and longer than usual. I cannot help but smile happily back at my reflection.

I slip on a pair of black kitten heels and walk downstairs carefully. It's 5.45pm and I'm early. My handbag sits on the small table at the bottom of the stairs along with my black trench coat and baby blue pashmina. I have locked all the doors and windows. All of the curtains have been drawn.

I sit at the bottom of the stairs waiting for Edward to knock. My need to always be on-time is borderline obsessive. I count the minutes, fiddling with the hem of my dress, brushing imaginary fluff and hairs from the fabric. I rise and check my lipstick in the small mirror on the wall, I smooth my hair and remain standing, tapping my toe nervously as I wait with my arms crossed.

There's a knock at the door. I check the time 5.50pm, he's early - thank heavens! I wait a few seconds to create the illusion that I have been busy and not that I have been sitting here waiting for him. I open the door and the sight that greets me is jaw-dropping. A cleanly shaven Edward is most certainly a sight to behold.

He smells wonderful; a mix of shaving foam and aftershave. The strong, spicy, woody scent tickles my nose pleasantly. His hair is a messy mop – but perfect nonetheless. He's sporting a mid-grey suit; unbuttoned with a black dress shirt underneath. The first couple of buttons are undone and I get a clear view of his collarbone. I have the strange urge to kiss his neck. _Where did that come from?_

He's holding a bunch of flowers; I can clearly see blue irises, white azaleas and pink and white striped carnations. It's a beautiful yet somewhat haphazard mix. He raises the flowers and presents them to me.

"Good Evening, Miss Swan. These are for you." I nod at Edward, smiling so widely my cheeks almost hurt. I've never asked why he refers to me by my maiden name. _Perhaps I should_. He steps forward and kisses both my cheeks before I take the flowers from him.

"Thank you so much, Mr Cullen. Do come in, I'll just put these in some water." Edward makes his way into the house and shuts the door behind him.

"You're looking delightful this evening. That colour really suits you." I blush at the praise and smile shyly at Edward. "Ahh, there's the blush; you're going red, Miss Swan!" Edward chuckles kindly and I feel my cheeks go up a notch on the redness scale. I finish with the flowers and dry my hands on a towel. I look at Edward expectantly.

"Well, shall we go?" Edward offers me his arm; it's bent at the elbow. I nod and link my arm with his, as he leads me through the house. I collect my belongings and lock the door behind me. I almost float down the path to Edward's car. He opens the passenger door and takes my coat and pashmina from me as I enter the car. Edward walks around the car, places my coat and scarf on the back seat and starts up the engine.

Just before we pull away from the kerb, he turns to look at me, a devious grin on his face as he raises an eyebrow. "Well Bella, are you ready for an evening of good old-fashioned fun?" I grin and nod my head emphatically. I cannot wait for the night to begin.

**A/n: I'll be over in the orchard, so please feel free to pop along. Please let me know what you think in a review. Hope you're all enjoying it still! **


	14. Chapter 14

**A/n Hello All! I'm so sorry for the delay with this chapter. I really hope it was worth the wait - at least I didn't leave you on an evil cliffie...**

** This chapter is dedicated to monamour, she had a bit of lie-in this week, but she'll remember to set the alarm next time! In all seriousness, I'm glad she's awake and feeling much better, lots of love and hugs baby!**

**Thanks as usual to xoEMC my wonderful beta and Jaustenlover for her much needed input into my sometimes wayward plot!**

**I have taken some liberties with the geography of Oxford for this chapter, so if you have ever visited and some of the buildings seem out of place, it'll be because I've moved them for the sake of my little tale. **

**Also, a quick explanation as it is mentioned in the first paragraph - cat's eye are roadway safety reflectors, like the ones here ****tinyurl(dot)com/35w9qu9**

Chapter 14

The sun is setting as we drive towards Oxford. It casts a beautiful red and gold glow over the fields and hillocks. The clouds appear to stretch for miles and the few birds still in the sky create a striking silhouette. The cat's eyes glimmer from their hiding place in the middle of the road as they are awoken by the vehicle headlights.

I gaze across at Edward; he is concentrating on the winding country lane that stretches out ahead of us. It meanders like a river, hedgerows flanking either side. He drives confidently, adhering to the speed limit at all times. Classical music emanates from the radio, it wouldn't be my first choice but I find it soothing.

He turns and smiles at me before returning his concentration back to the road, both hands firmly on the wheel. I smile to myself and look out the window, a comfortable silence spreads throughout the car. We pass through the market town of Woodstock. I gaze in awe at the high street offerings; tea-rooms, antique shops and a delicatessen are intermingled with pubs and a post office. My nose is inches from the glass as I place both my palms flat on the window. It's been so long since I've been for a night out; I have to resist the urge to bounce up and down in my seat.

I hear Edward chuckle and I look over my shoulder at him.

His eyes twinkle and he speaks, "Coming up on the right is Blenheim Palace. You should still be able to see it, even in the fading light." Edward points in the general direction and I turn in my seat so I can catch a glimpse.

"Winston Churchill's birthplace?" I ask. He nods at me.

The imposing gates and driveway of Blenheim Palace appear on the right, a huge stone wall surrounds the grounds. I crane my neck and can just make out the baroque palace in the distance. Satisfied, I settle back in my seat.

"Have you never visited it before? Or even seen it?" Edward looks at me incredulously.

"Only photos. When something is on your doorstep you never really get around to visiting it." I fiddle with the strap on my handbag. _The truth is that James never takes me anywhere. _

"Yes, I know exactly how that is. But you really should visit, even if you just walk around the grounds. The lakes are amazing." I smile at Edward's enthusiasm. Perhaps I can persuade James to come here. Or it occurs to me, I could ask Edward to take me one day when James is at work. _When did I become so cloak and dagger? _

We veer onto a more prominent road, the traffic becoming heavier. We must be nearing Oxford. I've only ever visited briefly and it was a long time ago with my parents. I don't really remember the route we took. James hasn't taken me into Oxford and I rarely have an opportunity to use the car myself. _We rarely spend much quality time together. _

We park the car on a quiet side street and Edward switches off the engine.

"Well, this is as close as I can get. It's just a short walk around the corner." Edward exits the car and retrieves my belongings from the back seat. He walks to the passenger side and opens the door for me. He helps me into my coat, squeezing my shoulders before letting go. I nod my thanks to him and wrap the scarf around my neck.

"It's not far, will you be warm enough?"

Edward looks concerned as we walk hurriedly along the pavement. Victorian lamp posts are interspersed with giant horse chestnut trees. I'm careful not to trip over the tree roots that have risen to the surface and dislodged the paving stones.

"Yes thanks, I'll be fine."

I feel physically warmed by his concern, it's as though I'm floating on air. I look all around me as I wonder where we're going. I don't know a lot about the restaurants in Oxford except for the fact that they are supposed to be some of the best outside London.

Appearing on the right I can see a beautiful Victorian conservatory. It's a sight to behold; small lights twinkle in the windows and around the frame of the building, lighting up the glass roof. The surrounding shrubs are decorated with ivory fairy lights. It's breath-taking, almost like a grotto. There's something extremely magical about it. _Surely we can't be eating here, it looks expensive. _

"Well, here we are." Edward waves his arm, indicating for me to go first.

"Here? Edward, are you sure?" My eyes widen, I must look like a small child on Christmas morning that's found much more than just a Clementine in her stocking!

Edward chuckles "Yes here. It's one of my favourite places." He's so matter-of-fact about the entire scenario.

I walk slowly down the covered flagstone pathway, noticing that tables are scattered around outside and sculpted bay trees in pots align the walkway, their musky scent filling the air. We enter through the open door and are immediately greeted by the Maître d'. I look around and instantly panic about my clothes. _Everyone here looks so refined - effortless chic permeates the room._

"Good evening, Mr. Cullen. How are you this evening?"

"Very well, thank you, a little hungry," Edward speaks confidently. The Maître d' nods curtly, crosses us from the list, then moves around the lectern and motions for us to follow him to our seats.

"Right this way, we have a lovely table for you, located in a secluded area of the restaurant, as requested."

As we walk through the restaurant I notice that an extension has been added to the rear; it houses the bar, kitchen and a large seating area. Although it's tastefully done, I cannot help the little smile of joy that graces my lips as I realise we are eating in the conservatory.

I gaze surreptitiously at the other diners as we pass their tables, some arty types ensconced in flowing swathes of fabric, decorated with large one of a kind jewellery and fairly alternative hair styles talk loudly and emphatically at their table. Academics effortlessly pulling off their tweed and well-worn corduroys mix with the few city types in sharp tailored suits; Blackberry's sit atop their tables next to their Marlboro Lights, fearful that they may miss a call, unable to truly relax and escape from it all for any real period of time.

I don't fit into any of these groups. Usually this would bother me, but being here with Edward seems to have given me a new found confidence and I feel comfortable in myself. _It's quite a revelation._

As we approach our table for the evening, the Maître d' pulls out my chair and turns to face me. "May I take your coat Madam?"

I place my handbag on the table and shrug out of my coat and scarf, handing them to the waiter. He drapes them over his arm before speaking.

"Your waitress will be here with your drinks shortly." The Maître d' nods politely and walks away.

I smile across the candle-lit table at Edward. The delicate lighting creates quite a romantic atmosphere. Looking around me I take in every inch of the décor. The floor is immaculate, a diagonal pattern of black and white chequered tiles. Potted palms ornament the room, the leafy fronds splaying like outstretched fingers.

Large chandeliers hang from the ceiling. The sounds of the other diners bounce around the restaurant. A knife scratching a plate, the gentle laughter of a patron, combined with the delicate stringed music coming from the strategically placed speakers, give a relaxed feel to the room.

I return my attention to the table, where gleaming glassware and cutlery stare back at me. The heavy white tablecloth touches my knees and a thick napkin sits between the knife and fork intended for the main course. A small matt black vase contains a dark pink tropical flower - it's not one I recognise, but like everything else in the restaurant it's divine.

Edward clears his throat and I stop exploring around the restaurant to look at him.

"Does it meet with your high standards, Bella?" Edward smiles warmly, his forearms atop of the table, he looks so comfortable here.

"Every inch of this place is beautiful. It's like a dream! I feel so pampered." I blush, thankful for the low-level lighting.

We are approached by a young looking waitress, her blonde hair tied back in a high pony-tail. She's wearing a heavy white shirt which has been freshly ironed, indigo skinny jeans and a long black apron that reaches her ankles, is tied around her waist. She's carrying a bottle of champagne in a stainless steel ice bucket; two champagne flutes, menus and the wine list are tucked under her arm. My eyes light up at the champagne; I've only ever had it at my graduation and on my wedding day.

Setting the champagne and the flutes on the table, she turns to greet us both.

"My name is Jessica and I'll be your waitress this evening Mr. Cullen." She smiles confidently, barely acknowledging me, while her eyes linger on Edward.

"Here is a menu and the wine list." She hands us both a menu and places the wine list in the middle of the table.

Returning her attention to Edward she reels off the specials. "Today's specials are: a starter of smoked mackerel, apple & celery salad with horseradish cream, a main course of Spring rump of lamb, fondant potatoes, asparagus, confit garlic & Madeira jus and for dessert a bitter chocolate tart with a lavender sorbet." I listen as the dishes roll off her tongue. My head spins trying to take in all of the details, all of the specials sound delicious.

She reaches for the champagne and shows the bottle to Edward, he nods and she pops the cork. I don't remember Edward ordering anything, he must've requested it when the booking was made. Holding the bottle at the base she pours two glasses, the bubbles dancing around. Replacing the bottle in the ice bucket she looks at Edward again. I take the opportunity to read the label, Dom Pérignon, Vintage 2000. _Hmm - sounds expensive._

"I'll be back shortly to take your order." She ignores me and smiles dreamily at Edward as she departs the table.

"I think someone is taken with you, Edward. Do you get that reaction everywhere you go?" I grin and take a sip of my champagne. It tastes delicious and I love how the bubbles feel in my mouth.

Edward looks uncomfortable and takes a long draught from his champagne.

"Please Bella, I'm almost old enough to be her father. I doubt she even knows who I am." Edward returns his attention to the menu and I hide my smile behind my copy.

I really struggle to make a decision, so much of it sounds mouth-watering. The waitress returns and we place our orders. I have the seared scallops on a bed of pea and mint puree, followed by the rib eye steak. Edward orders a carpaccio of beef, followed by rump of lamb and a bottle of water to share.

I'm tucking into my lemon tart and sipping on my double espresso when the ever-present Jessica approaches our table.

"Is everything ok with your food?" We both answer between bites, confirming that it is indeed delicious. She looks around nervously before moving inappropriately close to Edward, one of her hands resting on the back of his chair. _What now? His glass is topped up, we don't want anything else to eat. She is really beginning to grate on me. _

She speaks in a low breathy tone, I assume this is her attempt at seduction. "I just wanted to say that I'm a huge fan of your work, Edward, and if you are ever at a loose end..." She turns to look at me disdainfully. "Don't hesitate to give me a call." She slips a piece of paper into Edward's hand, but doesn't let go of his hand. It's then I notice that since her last visit to our table, she has loosened the first few buttons of her shirt and her almost non-existent breasts are practically on display, the lace of her training bra clearly visible. _Why do I feel such hatred for this woman as she gravitates toward Edward like a bee round pollen. Am I jealous? _

Edward flushes red and I instantly take pity on him. I can't be sure if he is embarrassed or enraged as he fiddles with the neck of his shirt, but I decide to step in regardless. She really has pushed me too far now. I reach my hand across the table and take the piece of paper, crumpling it up as I drop it on the floor. I glare at the waitress and plaster an insincere smile on my face. _This all feels a bit alien to me, but I seem to have found my inner bitch and it's quite empowering. _

I push any doubts to the pit of my stomach and embark on my scathing tirade.

"Edward won't be at a loose end any time soon. I suggest that if you still wish to receive a tip you leave us alone until you are called upon for the bill." I lift up my fork, hoping that my hand doesn't shake or waver, revealing my true nerves and I take a bite of tart, effectively dismissing the waitress; it tastes of victory. She blanches and scuttles away from the table. I grab my champagne glass and drain it, I then exhale noisily, relieved that the unpleasant exchange has been nipped in the bud.

I look up at Edward, his eyes are like saucers and he looks at me in shock. "Bella! Where did that come from? Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you."

_Yes, where did that come from?_ I feel myself swell a little with pride and I shrug my shoulders. "You were clearly uncomfortable and she was tainting my dessert. I didn't want to be rude, but she's been flirting with you throughout the whole meal, Edward." Inside I'm still shaking from my outburst. I can feel Jessica watching me from the other side of the restaurant so I try to appear calm and composed.

"Really?" Edward raises an eyebrow.

"Yes really, topping up your wine only, constantly table-checking and generally staring at you dreamily, from over there." I point my head in her direction and Edward looks over, catching her in the act, before she scampers into the kitchen.

"Hmpf! Guess I've still got it then." Edward sits a little straighter in his seats and puffs out his chest. The movement causes me to laugh wholeheartedly.

"Do I amuse you?" He tries to look wounded.

"No, of course not Edward." I bite my lower lip, trying to suppress my smile.

"I'll have you know I'm quite the catch."

"I don't doubt it. I've eaten your food and experienced your bedside manner. Any woman would be lucky to have you," I say this sincerely, he truly is a kind and gentle man.

"Stop, you're making me blush!" Hmm, his colouring doesn't look any different to me.

"I think it's time we got the bill. I know a quaint little pub where we could have a drink." Edward lifts his arm to get the recently returned Jessica's attention. I notice her flush red and whisper into the ear of a colleague. A different member of staff brings us the bill. I momentarily feel guilty and wonder if I acted too harshly.

Edward refuses to let me see the bill or contribute any money, insisting it is his treat. As we leave the restaurant I turn to look over my shoulder at Jessica, she scowls at me and any sympathy I feel for her quickly dissolves.

We embark on the short walk to The Turf Tavern.

"It's a great little pub, dates back to the 13th Century. They serve the perfect Gin & Tonic." I smile at Edward as we walk through the centre of Oxford, his arm in mine. He steers me around the cobbled streets as I look upwards, taking in all of the gargoyles and grotesques that adorn the buildings.

Turning the corner we pass the entrance to the Bodleian Library, the large oak doors displaying the Coat-of-Arms for all of the Colleges. I've read about this institution, it's one of six libraries in the UK that is entitled to a copy of every book published. To be a member you must be affiliated with the University in someway and I know you have to take an oath. Imagine all the books that must be housed in there! I know they have copies of the Magna Carta from the 1200s. I'm eager to share my knowledge with Edward.

"All of your books are in there Edward." I point at the door and we stand on the spot.

"They are indeed. I am a member of the library." I look at Edward in awe, yet again he trumps me. Ordinarily it would annoy me, but he's so humble about it all.

Edward tugs on my arm and I follow him, we walk towards the Bridge of Sighs. Suddenly Edward pulls me down an unassuming gap between two buildings. It opens out to display a small pub and courtyard, the braziers offering up much needed heat to the outdoor drinkers. We step down into the small pub and Edward's head almost touches the ceiling.

He orders a Hendricks and Tonic for me and sparkling water for himself, and we occupy a window seat. I sit back and smile contentedly at Edward. This has been one of the nicest evenings ever.

"This pub is amazing, I would never have known it was here!"

"Yeah, it's a great little place, isn't it? I used to come here a lot with Emmett when I lived in Oxford with my parents. It has lots of happy memories." Edward looks reflective.

"Well, thank you for bringing me here."

"It's a pleasure Bella. I've had so much fun with you this evening. I can't believe how quickly our relationship has blossomed. I feel like you've become a really good friend."

"Me too, I almost can't remember a time before you moved in." I blush at the admission and take a sip of my drink, tasting the botanicals in the gin.

"So, how are you getting on with the chapters? I think that Jane will want to see something soon." Edward crosses his arms and looks at me expectantly.

I take a large mouthful of my drink and brace myself to speak. "I'm really enjoying your story. I find it very involving, and I feel I am invested in your characters already."

Edward nods, waiting for me to continue. I feel my face flush.

"I haven't got to any of the…umm..." I cough politely and leave my sentence unfinished.

"Bella are you blushing?" I sip my drink and look out the window at the beer garden.

"I'm not a prude! It's just surreal talking to you about it." I run my finger around the rim of my glass and avoid looking Edward in the eye.

"Perhaps you could write down what you think, if that would be easier?" Edward says kindly. I know he's trying to offer me an easy way out, but I'm sure discussing his work would be more beneficial for him than just reading my thoughts.

"No, I need to just pull myself together and talk to you about your writing. It'll be much more advantageous for you to have a conversation about your work. It'll be good for me also." I nod my head, my mind made up. I need to be more determined, and around him I feel I can be. I drain my drink and put the empty glass down on the table. I shake my shoulders a little at the shock of the alcohol and the chill of the ice.

The ringing of the bell, and the shouting of 'Last Orders' interrupts our conversation.

"It's last orders, do you want another or should we get going?" Edward looks at me, letting me make the decision. It's so refreshing to have a feeling of being in control.

"We should probably head home. It's getting late and it's quite a drive." I'm sad this evening has to come to an end, but I've had an amazing night.

"Yeah, you're right. We could always have a night-cap at home." Edward smiles devilishly.

"Here let me help you with that." He helps me don my coat and waits patiently while I wrap my scarf around my neck.

"Thank you." I take Edward's offered arm and link mine through it. We leave the pub, looking like any other couple. I rest my head on his shoulder as we walk and I stifle a yawn.

"Was that a yawn? Am I really that exciting?" Edward looks down at me.

"Sorry, I'm just not used to an evening filled with so much fun and alcohol." I grin sheepishly.

"We better get you home then." Edward wraps his arm around me and we pick up our speed a little.

X-X-X-X-X

I'm jolted awake by Edward parking up the car - I slept for almost the entire journey. I stretch and yawn. Looking across at Edward, he smiles at me as he turns off the engine.

"Sleep well?"

I nod bashfully. "Really well, thank you. You spoilt me too much."

"You're welcome, I had such a good time this evening. You're amazing company, Bella."

"You too. The evening was over far too quickly," I say regretfully.

"Well, I have a bottle of Amaretto at home… I could bring it over and we could have a liqueur coffee before bed?" He looks at me expectantly.

"Sure, why not. I'll just let myself in and put the coffee on and you can go and get the booze." I feel giddy with excitement, wishing for the night to never end.

"That sounds like a plan, Miss Swan."

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

"Why do you call me that? Instead of Mrs. Smith, I mean." I'd wondered why he had been referring to me by my maiden name when he collected me earlier.

"Umm, it's silly really." He rubs the back of his neck, reluctant to explain further.

"Go on, I won't laugh." I try to sound comforting.

"I just think your maiden name is adorable. Bella Swan - it's exactly the sort of name I would give a female protagonist in one of my novels, I just wish I had come up with it!"

I am supremely flattered, but something inside me doesn't quite believe Edward's admission. There must be more to it than that. I'm not going to press him further tonight.

"Well, I'm flattered you like my name." I lean across and kiss Edward on the cheek to say thank you. He rubs the spot where my lips have just been and smiles at me sadly. He runs his hands through his hair and we both get out of the car.

"Right, I'll get the Amaretto and I'll be with you in couple of minutes." Edward starts walking to his house.

"Ok, I'll get the coffee on." I walk up to the front door, fumbling with my keys. As I unlock the door I hear the phone ringing. I dash into the front room and grab the receiver.

"Hello?" I whisper shakily into the phone. I know it's James, there's no one else it could be. I wait listening to the sound of my heart hammering in my chest.

He takes an age to answer and when he does, his tone is chilling and he's been drinking.

"This isn't the first time I've tried calling this evening Isabella" I hear him breathe loudly through his nose before he continues to speak through gritted teeth.

"WHERE THE FUCK, HAVE YOU BEEN?" He roars at me. Tears spring to my eyes and I feel myself shake with fear, almost dropping the phone.

**A/n If you're interested, this is the restaurant where Edward and Bella had dinner: www(dot)gees-restaurant(dot)co(dot)uk/main/gallery/  
Also the pub they visited is mentioned in this New York Times Article about Oxford Pubs, thought some of my American readers might appreciate an American review of an English pub, I'm sure I've glossed over lots of important details that this may mention, I have been to every one of the pubs reviewed, so do let me know if you have questions tinyurl(dot)com/3zf8xk**

**Until next time! Thanks all, please review I love them and try to reply as much as possible. **

** Flubbs x**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/n: Hello All!  
Well this is my longest chapter yet and it was a beast to write! At times it was like trying to get blood from a stone. xoEMC and Jaustenlover deserve a medal for their work on this chapter, however I'm afraid they will just have to settle for my undying love and gratitude! **

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter.**

**Flubbles xx  
**

Chapter 15

Time stands still. I've no idea how long I have been clutching the phone. I move the receiver away from my ear, the sound of James shouting on the other end of the line is almost deafening.

"Isabella..." he speaks again, quieter this time. I will my lips to move, but they just won't form words.

"Isabella, are you still there? Why have you gone quiet, you stupid bitch. Answer my question. Tell me, where you have been this evening?"

I toy with the idea of lying to him. It would be so much easier to say I fell asleep or went for a stroll. For some reason, my self-preservation instincts have absconded. I have a strong compulsion to tell him the truth. _It would appear the time for lying is coming to an end._

I could blame my new found candour on the champagne I consumed this evening; or the confidence that Edward's supportive company provides me with. I'm also boosted by the knowledge that he's miles away in London – not that the geography of the situation makes him any less menacing.

Whatever the motivation, I embark upon the probably foolish act of telling James the truth. _I need to do this. _

"I w-went for d-dinner." My voice is shaking and I hate myself for sounding so weak.

"Y-you w-what? Stop stuttering and fucking spit it out."

I whimper at his cruel jibe. I can imagine the smug smile spreading across his face.

I straighten my shoulders and wipe my nose with the back of my hand. I take a few deep breaths and begin speaking again. _Come on Bella, don't wimp out now. _

"I went to dinner with Edward. He took me to Oxford to say thank you for my help in the orchard." I speak in what I hope sounds like a calm monotone. I don't want him to think he has upset me. _He doesn't always need to have the upper hand. _

I hold my breath and wait for him to speak, my hands are shaking and I feel goose-bumps spring to the surface of my arms.

"You went for dinner..." he pauses.

"With Edward?" He sounds incredulous.

"Did he have a cancellation and assumed you would be free at the last minute?" His words sting, but I know there isn't an ounce of truth to them.

"No, he invited me specifically." I admit he did invite me at the last minute, but I don't think that is of relevance.

"Checking with me didn't occur to you? Informing your husband that you were going to dinner with another man didn't seem important?" His voice rises as he continues to speak. _He's trying to back me into a corner, getting me to admit I'm in the wrong._

"You weren't around to ask and you didn't leave me any contact details! Besides, I didn't think you would mind, we're just friends, nothing happened." My once strong voice fades to a whisper. _I don't want to antagonise him, hopefully by the time he comes home his anger will have dissipated. _

"Isabella, don't confuse my irritation with jealousy. I strongly doubt a man like Edward - who could have his pick of good women, would find you the least bit attractive. You're incredibly plain looking, almost forgettable."

A sob threatens to burst forward, but I choke it back_. _I try to block out his vicious words, but I cannot deny the truth in them. _I'm not much to look at. _Father always said I was 'no oil-painting'_. He told me to concentrate on trying to impress a man with my mind as it was my only asset._

"If I'm so unattractive, why do you stay with me then?" I stun myself with these words as they spill forth. I cannot retract them now. _I really am on a road to self-destruction this evening._

"Because I promised your father and because I feel sorry for you. Without me, you'd be nothing. Who else would have you? You need me." He sounds so confident and I've heard these words so many times before. _Could I be something more? _

Unable to find an answer to all the questions careening around my head, I blindly plough on. _What further damage could a loose tongue do now?_

I ignore his character assessment of me, and voice everything that preys on my mind whilst I occupy the house on my own during the day.

"I don't need to be so dependent on you. If you'd only let me get my PGCE, I could teach. We could do with the extra income and then I wouldn't be such a burden." I plead with my voice, willing it to sound strong and unyielding.

"We've been over this time and again. We don't have the money for you to sign-up to a course, and we can't afford to run another car." He is speaking through gritted teeth and I can tell his patience is wearing thin.

I think on my feet and try to reason with him further. This is probably one of the safest settings to put my case forward.

"There are government initiatives now. I could get all of my tuition fees paid off, after I complete my first year of full-time employment. I don't need a car, I could use public transport to get from A to B." I shut my eyes tightly, tears tickling the eyelashes. When I open my eyelids my vision is blurred.

"Have you been looking into this again? I thought I told you to leave it. It's not going to happen, Isabella. No wife of mine is going to work full-time. What will people think? I'll tell you what; they'll think I can't support both of us."

"Well, you clearly can't support both of us!" I gasp as I realise that the words I was thinking seem to have left my lips.

"What's that suppose to mean?" His voice is accusatory.

"Nothing James, ignore me. I didn't mean that." I try to back-peddle.

"Oh please, pray tell what you are wanting for Isabella? What materialistic objects am I unable to provide for you?" I've really pissed him off now.

"Forgive me; I just want to teach so badly. I love to be around children and well, we can't have…" my voice peters out.

"Isabella, you will stop this now. You are not going back to college and you are most definitely not going to work. Is that understood?" I hear him slam his hand on a hard object, it produces a loud bang.

"But James-" I interject.

"Enough! The discussion is over! I can see I am going to need to have a talk with you when I get home. The freedom you have been granted in my absence clearly hasn't done you any good." A chill ripples through me at his choice of words. _He isn't going to forget about this conversation any time soon. _

"It's late; I would go to bed now if I were you."

"Edward is coming over shortly for coffee..." I don't know why I feel a deep compulsion to tell him this. Maybe it's to get one last jab in before the conversation is over. Maybe to let him know that Edward enjoys spending time with me and that I'm not all alone while he's off gallivanting around the big smoke!

"Well, I suggest you tell him that you are tired and send him on his way." He sounds smug and self-assured.

"I don't want to do that," I whisper.

"We all have to do things that we don't want to do, Isabella. I'll leave it up to you, but I know you'll make the right decision." By that he means the right decision for him. _I'm going to do what's right for me for a change. How will he ever know? _

"I'm going to sleep now, worrying about you has kept me awake later than intended. You really have been something of an inconvenience this evening."

He speaks of me in such a dismissive way, like I'm a boring task that someone needs to deal with but they keep putting off.

The conversation is clearly over; I don't feel as though I have made any headway. Things are just the same as before.

"Goodnight, Isabella. I'll be back in a couple of days." I sigh at the thought of his return.

"Goodnight, James." I'm desperate to hang up the phone and end this fateful exchange.

"We'll discuss the time you've been spending with Edward when I get home."

I ignore this sentence; I feel the anger rising within me.

"Sleep well, I love you."

"Yes, sleep well." I can't bring myself to say the words; I feel a growing contempt towards him.

"Aren't you going to say it back?" He really knows how to rankle me.

"I love you too." I almost spit out the words, eager to get them out and not have them polluting my mouth further with their lies. I hear the line click dead and he is gone.

In a fit of rage, I punch the nearest cushion on the sofa and let out a guttural scream of anger as the tears I held back begin to fall freely.

"Insufferable bastard!" I instantly feel better for swearing. It's incredibly restorative.

Edward chooses that exact moment to walk into the house through the open front door, a smile on his face and the Amaretto in-hand.

"Sorry I took so long-" I look up at Edward and watch as his smile fades. He rushes towards me and kneels at my feet. Placing the bottle on the floor, he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and tentatively dabs at my eyes before pressing the soft cotton into my hand, not letting go. He rubs small circles on the back of my hand with his thumb.

I sniffle and wipe at the corners of my eyes, taking some deep shaky breaths to calm myself. It doesn't work; I see my hands are still trembling. _I must look a blotchy mess._

"I haven't even made a start on the coffee." I try to rise from the sofa, hoping that I can busy myself in an effort to put the phone-call to the back of my mind and avoid the impending 20 questions.

"Bella, the coffee can wait. Why are you so upset? Who's an insufferable bastard?" Edward pulls me back down by my wrists. He continues to kneel, his hands moving to rest on my knees as he sits at my feet. His position is so passive, so open, I feel compelled to tell him what happened.

So far honesty hasn't got me anywhere this evening, but why stop now? _Edward won't judge me like James does._

"James, I said that about James." I look at Edward as I feel myself flush red with anger. He's completely unfazed.

"James? What happened? Is he back?" Edward looks around for any signs of him.

"No, he's not back. I just finished speaking to him on the phone. We had a disagreement." I sniff indignantly.

"What did he do that has made you so upset?" Edward has a look of disgust on his face.

"He's just so controlling." I offer up an abridged explanation as my voice chokes up and I begin crying again.

"Controlling, of you? Or your time?" He tilts his head to the side, keen to understand.

"Both. Particularly the time I spend with you." I look down at my lap and play with the handkerchief, running my thumb over the embroidered EC in the bottom corner.

"Well, he has nothing to feel jealous or insecure about. We're just good friends.

Would you like me to have a word with him when he gets back? Put his mind at ease?" His brow creases with concern as he squeezes my knees. _He's so keen to fix everything; it really is an endearing quality._

"No, it's fine." I blow my nose on the handkerchief feeling completely sorry for myself.

"Have you tried to talk to him? Tell him how he makes you feel?"

I shake my head, unable to speak.

Edward ploughs on.

"What sort of things does he try to control?"

I look at the concern on Edwards face; I take a deep breath through my nose and speak.

"Everything." _One word says it all, nothing more is needed._

"Bella…"

I look up at Edward and he grabs my clasped hands in his. Looking me directly in the eye as he speaks.

"That isn't right. A relationship should be an environment for individuals to flourish, to benefit from the strength and support that comes from forming a union with someone." He shakes his head sadly. I feel fresh tears flow down my cheeks.

"Shush, I didn't mean to make you cry." He pulls me into a hug and talks into my hair.

"You need to talk to James again. You can't let yourself get all het up like this. It's not good for you." I nod against his chest. I know what he is saying is right; I'm just not sure I can reason with James.

"I've seen how James treated you when I came for dinner. Is he worse when it's just the two of you?" Edward pulls back and holds me by my upper arms. I can feel his fingers digging into my arms, like he's trying to stress the seriousness of the situation.

I gather my thoughts, trying to pick my words carefully.

"James is very particular about how he likes things to be done."

"And?"

"He can be a bit of a stickler for detail at times and a hard person to please." I leave it there, not keen to say more.

"Bella, are you happy?" His eyes soften and his grip loosens as looks at me intensely. I wasn't expecting him to ask this.

"I think I must be, but sometimes I wonder if it's because I don't know any better." I look away from Edward as my eyes tear up once more.

"I've told you before about my desire to teach, but James doesn't want me to work. He has very old-fashioned values. I just feel as though I am stuck in a rut and a bit unappreciated at times." I shrug, unable to go on.

"James is lucky to have you. And if he doesn't realise that, maybe someone should tell him." He clears his throat and sits back, putting some distance between us.

I scoff at his words and smile at him sadly.

"It's kind of you to say so Edward, but I'm nothing special." I don't mean to be so self-deprecating, but I feel emotionally beaten enough for one evening.

"You don't see yourself very clearly do you, Bella? When I look at you, I see a beautiful young woman, full of life. Rich expressive eyes, so deep I could fall into them. Delicate ivory skin, that is warmed by the most exquisite blush on your heart shaped face." He pats my knee and my aforementioned blush shows itself.

I don't think anyone has ever said such wonderful things to me. I try to believe them, but it's so much easier to believe the cruel put-downs and criticisms I have heard over the years. Being told by my Father repeatedly, that I was a complete disappointment. To only be passed along to another man that believes the same.

My Father was one of the main reasons I married James - to finally get his approval. He loved James like a son. The two of them were thick as thieves playing golf together and sailing; pastimes they indulged in together. I think James was more devastated than me when my father died. My Mother, however, that was a different story, she was my best friend. I carry a small hole in my heart since she died.

"Thank you, I don't think anyone has ever said anything that nice to me before." I look at him sadly.

"Bella, you look exhausted. Do you want to have the coffee another time?" I look at Edward. He too looks tired, but I don't really want to him to go just yet.

"Sorry, I'm just a bit worn out after the phone call with James. How about we have a hot chocolate instead?" I look at Edward hopefully.

"Ok, one hot chocolate. Then you're going to bed. We'll have the Amaretto another time." He speaks authoritatively. I nod in agreement_._

X-X-X-X-X

I drink the last of the chocolate from my mug and lick my lips. I am completely satiated. My earlier depressive state of mind has lessened. I glance across at Edward; he's reclining in a chair, his arms crossed behind his head.

"I doubt you want to talk about it again this evening, or should I say morning." He winks at me. "But please don't let whatever James said to you upset you too much. I'm always here to talk to and if you want me to have a word with him, the offer is still there." I smile thinly at him and place my mug on the table. I pull my hair over one shoulder and play with the ends.

I sigh tiredly.

"Yes, Edward, I appreciate that. I may just take you up on it." I suddenly feel so weary, aching right through to my bones. I yawn loudly, unable to stifle it.

"That's my cue to leave. It is most definitely the wrong side of midnight." I check the clock on the kitchen wall, it's almost 2.00am. So much for a quick hot chocolate.

"Yes, it's time for bed, I'm shattered. Thank you for such a wonderful night, Edward." We walk to the front door and I stop to give him a peck on the cheek and a brief hug. His strong arms wrap around me and he pulls me into his chest.

"It was my pleasure and remember, any time you need to talk I'm just next door."

This thought comforts me as I say a final goodnight to Edward and lock the door. I carry my weary body up the stairs and prepare myself for bed.

X-X-X-X-X

_I'm dozing lazily in bed. Lying on my stomach, my arms outstretched above my head. It's hot and humid tonight. I'm completely naked, except for the Egyptian cotton flat sheet that covers me from the waist down. His arm is draped across my back, his fingers tracing lazy circles near the dimples just above my buttocks._

_He drags his fingers up my spine languidly, the fingernails grazing me occasionally. He sweeps the hair off my neck and blows lightly on the exposed skin. I shiver in anticipation. His lips swoop down to kiss me behind the ear. Nuzzling my neck with his nose, I feel him nip at my shoulder playfully._

_My face is turned away from him, so he cannot see the blissful smile that dances on my lips. My eyes are shut and I sigh contentedly._

_He continues to kiss my back and shoulders, moving lower. I shudder with pleasure._

_"You are a vision, Miss Swan."_

_He murmurs between kisses as his hand comes from behind to rest between my legs. He spreads his hand a little, a silent request for me to part my legs further. I comply and feel a finger slide beneath my lips and slip inside me._

_I turn on my side, my back pressing into his chest. He reaches a hand under me and around my waist so that he is hugging me to him. I groan with pleasure as he continues to stroke me._

_"So wet, Isabella!"_

_I twist my neck quickly, looking over my shoulder and it's James that is staring back at me._

I awake with a jolt, splashing water everywhere. My heart is pounding and I feel thoroughly disorientated, I can taste bile in my mouth. I gather my thoughts realising I've fallen asleep in the bath. The late night must've taken it out of me more than I realised.

I remember now that I decided a morning soak in the bath might be soothing. The lavender seemed a good idea at the time. I shake my head and think back to my dream. It felt so real - Edward's hands on me, caressing every inch of me. It was bliss - until he turned into James. _How quickly a dream can shift into a nightmare_. I shudder with discomfort.

Eager to distract myself from thoughts of James, I reach for the book I brought into the bathroom with me. I look at the picture of Edward on the inside cover of the battered paperback and instantly feel myself becoming aroused again. I let the book fall from my hands, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

I reach a hand down between my legs and lightly caress the folds of skin. I imagine his hands applying gentle pressure to my breasts, his lips at my neck littering me with chaste sweet kisses. I close my eyes and tip my head back as my fingers get to work, my legs twitch and the water ripples as I orgasm. My breathing is laboured and I feel my face flush as guilt over what I have just done, courses through me.

I lay there for a few minutes gathering my thoughts. I reach for the book again and try to concentrate on the words. I'm not really reading any of the text. My mind keeps switching between my conversation with James last night and the heart to heart I had with Edward. _Did I say too much? _My memory is a little hazy from all of the alcohol.

Why does my friendship with Edward bother James so much? Does he feel insecure in our relationship? Should he? _Well_,_ I have just masturbated over Edward's photo._

A favourite song comes on the radio, interrupting my thoughts and I sing along loudly. I'm part way through the second verse when I swear I can hear someone shouting. _Has James come home early? _

Before I have a chance to act, Edward is standing at the top of the stairs, open-mouthed, staring right at me through the open door of the bathroom. Time seems to stand still, then we both spring into action. I scream and cover my breasts, dropping the book I was reading in the bath water with a dull splash. I pray that the bubbles cover my nether regions.

Edward covers his eyes with his hands whilst chanting, "I didn't see anything. I swear I didn't see a thing Bella."

I manage to stop screaming but continue to splash around in the water helplessly, panicking and making strange squeaking sounds. This is mortifying!

"Oh god Bella, I'm so sorry!" Edward sounds appalled, his view still blocked by his hands.

"Edward, what the hell are you doing here?" My voice is hysterical, as I tremble with shock.

"I knocked and waited for an age. When you didn't answer I used the key you gave me to let myself in. I thought something had happened to you and you couldn't get to the door!"

"Stay there! And don't look! I'm getting out." I know I sound huffy, but I really think I'm entitled to. I manage to get my limbs working and I step out of the bath wrapping my fluffy white dressing gown around myself. After my initial panic at being seen naked, I now start to worry about whether he saw any of my scars. _I think I'm safe, he didn't see my back. _

"It's ok, I'm dressed. You can look now." I turn to scowl at Edward, my cheeks are so inflamed I can feel the heat radiating off of them. My breathing is still panicked as I try to calm down.

Edward peels his fingers away from his eyes slowly, almost like he doesn't believe that I will really be dressed. He recovers himself quickly and leans against the doorframe, his eyes are drawn to the bath water and I follow his gaze.

"Shit!" I clamp my hand over my mouth. I don't mean to swear in front of Edward, but it just slips out.

He starts to chuckle and then speaks, "Bella, I appear to be drowning!"

Edward's book is floating on the water, it has swollen to twice its normal size.

However, that is not the worst thing...the book has fallen open at the page containing the picture of Edward. He is staring back at us from beneath the water, smiling widely. To add to my humiliation, this dogged copy is the one that I foolishly defaced - with a love heart right around Edward's head. I groan at my inner 15 year old. _When did that ever seem like a good idea? _

I fish out the sodden book, and place it in the bin next to the toilet. I look up at Edward and he has a smug smile on his face.

"It was a second-hand copy." I lie. "It already had the graffiti on it." The words tumble out.

"Uh-huh. Sure it did." Edward's smirk widens and he rubs his chin knowingly.

"Alright, I did it. Happy? I told you I was infatuated with you! Anyway, I don't think after just walking in on me naked, you're in any position to tease, Edward!" I huff petulantly.

"You were infatuated?" Edward covers his heart like he has been wounded.

"Yes, and then I met you," I retort cheekily.

"Touché Miss Swan." Edward reaches down and pulls the plug out of the bath, the water begins to gurgle down the plughole.

"Go and wait for me downstairs, I'll finish getting dressed." I speak forcefully and Edward complies.

X-X-X-X-X

I walk into the front room and approach Edward. He doesn't hear me enter the room as he sits on the sofa flicking through the photo albums that are still left out from the other day. He chuckles at a photo. I look over his shoulder, it's one of me reading a book to our pet Spaniel, Ben.

"He was a captive audience, and a good listener." I smile at Edward. He jumps and shuts the album guiltily.

"I'm so sorry about upstairs, Bella". I nod accepting his apology.

"So you should be! It was highly embarrassing!" I cross my arms as I look at him.

"There's no point worrying about it now though. What's done is done." It could've been worse. _H__ad he walked in 5 minutes earlier…_

"So did you call round for any particular reason, Edward?" I sit down next to him. I feel a lot more comfortable around him now I'm clothed.

Edward crosses his legs and turns to face me.

"I came to see how you were doing after last night, and to let you know that I have had a call from Jane." I nod waiting for him to go on.

"She wants me to go to London. I need to do some publicity for the re-print of my books. You know -a few drinks and nibbles type events and some book signings she has set-up. I also need to show her the new chapters for my latest book." Edward looks uncomfortable. I know he hates being in the limelight.

"When do you need to go?" I hope it's not until James gets back. I'd like him around for the next couple of days.

"Well, she's done her usual thing of springing it on me so I can't come up with an excuse to get out of it." He smirks. _She obviously knows him well._

"Ok." I swallow, bracing myself.

"I have to leave in an hour or so." He looks sadly at me. _Christ, an hour or so!_

"Will you be ok? I mean with James away as well?" His eyes are full of concern.

"I'll be fine. You don't have to worry about me." I try to sound convincing. I feel silly, but I'll miss him so much.

"If I could get out of it, I would. I know it might sound a bit crazy, but I feel really protective of you, Bella. I don't like to think of you out here on your own." I pat his hand to thank him and smile at him reassuringly.

"I'd feel better if you had my mobile phone number. You can call me about anything, doesn't matter what time day or night."

I look around for something that he can write on. I see the manuscript on the coffee table and pass it to Edward along with the red pen I was using. He scrawls his number on the front page.

"There, that's better." He wipes his hands on his thighs and rises.

"I'm really sorry, but I have to go and sort a few things out before I leave. If I'm ever going to make it there on time, that is." He looks at me regretfully.

"Edward, honestly, I'll be ok." I smile and stand also. We walk together to the door.

He picks me up in a hug and squeezes me tightly.

"I'm going to miss you. It'll be strange not seeing you every day."

I feel a lump rise in my throat. It's silly for me to become emotional, but our friendship has accelerated so quickly.

"I'll still be here when you get back and with any luck, I'll have finished my red-penning." I'm referring to the manuscript.

"Yeah, about that. I know James is away at the moment, but you won't leave it lying around when he returns, will you?" Edward looks anxious.

"Edward, I'll guard it with my life. I promise!" I use my voice to convey how seriously I take the trust that he has placed in me.

"Good. Ok, well, I suppose I'll see you in a few days." He reluctantly opens the door and steps out of the house.

"Goodbye, Edward and thank you." I call out and wave as he walks to his house.

A part of me wants time to fly by so that Edward's absence is less noticeable, but the passing of time brings James' return all the more closer.

**A/n as I'm sure many of you have noticed, I have not been sticking to weekly updates. I'm new to this whole thing still and underestimated how long updates would take. I am now aiming to update every 10 days or so, as the story gets bigger it's more work for me and my lovely betas. So I shall see you hopefully in another 10 days. Enjoy and please review if you can, I love reading and replying to them! I'm off to cook a chicken, chorizo and butterbean stew! First attempt so I hope it's edible!**

**Flubbles x**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/n: Thanks as ever to EMCxo and Jaustenlover for their help with this chapter. There is a longer a/n at the end please check it out. Enjoy, Flubbles x**

Chapter 16

Edward has been gone for 4 hours 38 minutes – and, well, the exact number of seconds escapes me. During this time, I have re-organised my herbs and spices cupboard; de-cluttered my cutlery drawer; fluffed and plumped every pillow and soft furnishing in the house. The air is thick with the aroma of pine cleaning fluid and air freshener. I feel more than a little light-headed.

I collapse into a chair at the kitchen table and breathe a deep heavy sigh. It does nothing to improve my mood, nor does it move time on any faster. I look up at the antique clock; normally James would be arriving home now. He doesn't expect me to be there waiting at the door anymore, which is a relief. However the majority of his other requirements are still very much in place.

I don't mind caring for my husband, but I believe that sometimes he expects me to go above and beyond the call of duty.

I do gather some pleasure from undertaking my 'wifely' duties. Cooking is a favourite pastime of mine. I also take pride in having a clean and presentable home. James' desire for me to wait on him though, to anticipate his every need, is something that I don't welcome. I wouldn't mind so much if he did small thoughtful things for me. Occasionally I feel like the only party that gives anything in this relationship. _Shouldn't I be pampered and waited on sometimes?_

I have three more days before his return on Sunday. I think I'll prepare a roast dinner to welcome him home, that should please him. Maybe I can distract him from enquiring about the evening I spent with Edward.

At first I'd found the freedom from James and the confinements of my routine daunting, wondering what I would do to fill my hours. There's little point sticking to my usual routines while he is absent. No sense in wasting time cooking elaborate meals – the other night I ate breakfast cereal for dinner. It was so liberating!

Slowly, the break from the usual schedule is starting to feel comfortable. _Edward has been a huge help in filling my spare time. _A smile graces my lips as I think about Edward. The orchard, the pre-reading and his brilliant company – it's as though my days have meaning again. Something to look forward to when I rise, and something to have sweet dreams about when I settle to sleep at night. _Something...or someone?_

I scan my eyes around the kitchen; everything appears to be in its rightful place. I have adored this week and I really don't want to be a victim of my own carelessness. Nothing seems amiss and there aren't any Edward-shaped extras lying around. I'll check the rest of the house tomorrow, just, to be on the safe side.

The orchard has been neglected since James left for London; I'll spend some time there tomorrow. I might as well be productive with my last couple of free, unstructured days. I love being outside and what better way to thank Edward for his kindness over these past few days.

Satisfaction swims through my veins as I revel in the knowledge that I have determined my own agenda for tomorrow. I fully admit that some of my activities are James-centric, however once those tasks are out of the way, the day is mine to do with it as I choose.

Boosted by these thoughts I embark upon preparing dinner. No cereal tonight, I think I can stretch to baked beans on toast. I walk to the bread bin and take out the loaf of partially stale bread. It'll be fine for toast. Cutting two huge doorsteps of bread, I place them under the grill and turn it on. I set about the more challenging task of operating the ring-pull on the bean can. Ahh Heinz! Other brands are just poor quality imitations.

I turn the toast under the grill, browning both sides. Depositing the beans into a saucepan, I cook them on a high flame to within an inch of their life, so that they almost become a giant beany mush. A few drops of Tabasco sauce and they are good to go. Placing the toast on a large dinner plate I unceremoniously pour the beans all over the carb-filled delightfulness of the toast.

I carry my plate and cutlery into the living room – a major no-no! _All meals must be eaten at the table, Isabella. _His voice resonates through me. I switch the TV on to catch the end of a long-running soap opera and block out his voice. I settle back into the cushions and put a forkful of the entirely too hot food in my mouth, making a blowing noise as I try to swallow the mouthful, too greedy to wait for it to cool.

A few bites of food and cutlery scrapes on the plate later and my feast is but a distant memory. I put the plate on the coffee table and rub my tummy in sheer satisfaction. Reaching for the remote control, I stretch my legs out and get even more comfortable, thinking to myself that the dishes can wait until later. I don't even care if the pan dries out and is harder to clean in the long run. _Go Bella! _

X-X-X-X-X

I awake feeling refreshed and ready for the day ahead of me. I sit-up and stretch my arms above my head. _That's strange_. Normally when I wake up I can hear the birds performing their morning chorus – but today...nothing! It also looks uncharacteristically bright for this time of morning. I turn my head to check the alarm clock, the digits flash at me, 11.00 a.m.! I slept for almost twelve hours.

Oh my gosh, Friday is practically over! I throw back the covers and examine the alarm clock. Although the time is flashing, the volume has been turned down. That explains why the radio didn't wake me.

I'm so stupid to waste my last few precious days sleeping_ – sleep when you're dead Bella! _That's what Father always said whenever I wanted a lie-in. I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I am so disappointed with myself.

I shake my head and pull the curtains open. It's a glorious day, blue skies with a smattering of clouds and a light breeze – perfect orchard weather. I'll have to do the orchard now and work on making the house 'James friendly' later on this afternoon. I throw on some old clothes and a pair of walking boots. Tying my hair up messily I dash to the bathroom and brush my teeth hastily.

I run downstairs, rubbing sleep from my eyes as I go and grab a key. I fly out of the house and lock the front door behind me. I begin to calm down and slow my pace as I cover the short distance to Edward's house. I skirt round the edge of the property and let myself into the garden. Just being here makes me feel calmer and closer to him. It's as though I can imagine him here talking to me.

His shed has been delivered and it looks pretty impressive – _if you're into that sort of thing. _It's such a safe community that thankfully Edward didn't see the need to lock the shed. I open it and gather all of the necessary tools for an honest day's work.

I continue with the clearing of the couch grass and ground-ivy, it's a thankless task. Just when you're convinced an area is clear, another patch catches your eye. I work up a sweat and wish I had grabbed a hat or some water from the house in my haste. I'll keep working for a little longer and then have a break.

Moving on to the thinning of the branches, I pick up where Edward left off, concentrating on some of the lower branches. I'll get to the rest using a ladder later. Engrossed in my work, I jump when I hear someone knocking on Edward's front door and calling out. I crane my neck so that I can hear the voice better, just then I see Joan from the Post Office poke her head over the gate. I groan inwardly. _Just what I need! _

"Hello! Isabella! How funny to find you here!" Joan looks at me as if waiting for an explanation as to why I am there.

_Strange, I think it's funny to find you here Joan. _I smile but make no move to speak, I'm going to make her work for her gossip for a change. _Let's give her a dose of restaurant Bella instead of old faithful timid Isabella_.

"Hello Joan, I don't think it's strange that I should be here. I do live next door after all." I smile to myself. _Yes that'll do nicely. _

"What brings you here Joan?" I ask demurely.

She reaches a pudgy well manicured hand over the gate and lifts the latch, opening the gate she trundles into the garden. Her hair looks freshly curled and set, she's wearing a single breasted jacket that is at least two sizes too small. The stitching must breathe a sigh of relief when she peels herself from it. The rest of her outfit consists of a pleated navy skirt, grey tights, brown shoes and a white blouse. She looks every bit the post mistress.

My eyes linger on the stack of post in the wicker basket she carries in the crook of her right-arm.

"Mr Cullen of course. Or should I say Edward! Oh he's so very charming, Isabella!" She gets a faraway dreamy look in her eye, I find it disturbing. _I hope I don't look like that when I think of Edward._

I nod waiting for her to continue, I'm giving her nothing. If she gets a sniff of a story she'll go straight to the press. I know for a fact that Joan is saving for a cruise and she'll do anything to raise the money.

"Yes, Edward. Well he has had lots of post recently, what with his profession and all – to think our very own celebrity in the village." She stops to fan herself, it's nauseating.

"Do you think he would be interested in judging the giant vegetable contest at the annual village fete?" My eyebrows shoot-up. _I think Edward would rather stick pins in his eyes._

"Umm I don't know Joan. I think that's something only Edward can answer. So why are you here exactly?" I grin widely at her.

"Yes, sorry I digress. As you well know Harry doesn't always get a chance to come out this far on his rounds…" Harry Clearwater is the local postman, he's so close to death you can almost smell the formaldehyde wafting off him. According to Harry, his postal round keeps him going. Nobody ever mentions that there is a backlog of letters at the Post Office and that he misses off the majority of the houses in the village.

He delivers to the few homes that contain residents more infirm than him. The more able-bodied amongst us occasionally wander down to the post office in town to collect our junk mail. _Which begs the question, why is Joan performing a house call?_

"So, I thought I would come and drop off Edward's post and see how he's settling in. I mean he's such a busy man, what with him being famous and all that! However I can see that he's not home and yet here you are working in his garden." She arches a perfectly shaped tinted eyebrow at me and crosses her arms as if I owe her an explanation.

"Edward has had to go into London for a few days. I'm helping him clear the garden, so I thought I would get on with some of it whilst he's away. A sort of surprise." I shrug, that's enough information for her.

"London? Whatever for? Is everything alright? Anything I should know about?" I can almost hear the cogs turning in her head.

"Just some publicity events for his previous novels." I daren't mention the new book he's working on.

"Oh yes, his novels. Have you read any of his books, Isabella? They're very..." she takes a step and leans in closer to mouth the word "risqué." She looks around her to check that no one else is listening.

I cover my mouth with my gloved hand and try not to laugh.

"My Billy doesn't like me reading them. He says I shouldn't get fanciful ideas about romance. I've tried to introduce some of the more tame ideas into the bedroom, but Billy isn't one for role-play." I shudder at the thought of 'Joan the servant girl' and 'Billy the blacksmith' rolling in the wild heather with gay abandon.

"Joan, was there anything else you came for, or was it simply to drop off Edward's post?" I try to make my tone sound no-nonsense, I need to nip this pointless conversation in the bud now.

"Well Isabella, there's no need to be quite so abrupt." She straightens her shoulders and prepares herself to look indignant.

"I'm sorry Joan, but as you can see I'm quite busy and I have a few things to get finished before James comes home." I hope this will move her on, but she looks firmly planted to the spot, she's almost taken root like one of the trees in the orchard.

"Ah yes Mr Smith, I haven't seen him in a while and Billy mentioned that he hasn't been into the Carlisle Arms all week. Is everything ok?" Nothing goes unnoticed in this sleepy town.

I sigh.

"James is away on business, he went at the beginning of the week. He'll be back in a couple of days." I offer up an unnecessary explanation and Joan seems momentarily satisfied, it almost looks like her feet have moved a whisker.

"Ah so you're up here all by yourself. When did Mr Cullen go away?"

"Edward left yesterday." I'm not going to lie._ I've done nothing to be ashamed of._

"So, it's just been you and Edward out here for the last few days..?" _Bam! There's the question. _I knew she was building up to something, what exactly is she suggesting?

"Yes Joan, that's right and what are implying?" I cross my arms and fix her with a steely gaze.

"Nothing Isabella, I'm just saying, he's a very attractive man. Wonderful company too I'd imagine." She stares at me intensely.

"What are you insinuating Joan?" I take a step closer to her, I'm taller than her by a few inches and I stand to my full height.

She gulps and laughs nervously, readjusting her basket.

"Just that you're only human and the two of you out here on your own, must be hard without your husband around…" She takes a step closer, before continuing to speak.

"I for one wouldn't blame you if you dipped your toe in the water, so to speak. You could tell me you know. I wouldn't judge you or tell a soul. As you know, I'm a very discrete person." She touches my forearm in a faux act of concern.

"Joan, how did we get from you dropping off some post for Edward, to accusing me of adultery?" I shake her hand from my arm and she takes a step back.

"Oh Isabella, I wasn't accusing you of anything! I just wanted you to know you can trust me, if you ever need to talk." She laughs nervously and reaches a hand to her hair before retrieving the stack of post from her basket and thrusting it into my hand.

"Well, if that's all, I think I should be heading off, lots more errands to run. You know how it is; a woman's work is never done." She practically trots to the garden gate like the little old sow that she is, eager to make her escape.

"Joan," I call after her and make my way to the front of the house.

"Mh-hmh," she calls over her shoulder as she continues to walk briskly to her car.

"Was there any post for James and me?" I ask hopeful that she has forgotten it in her haste to leave, it'll save me a trip into town.

"Oh yes dear, a few things. You'll need to go to the Post Office to collect them." A smirk graces her lips as she reaches her car and climbs inside.

I shake my head. _Charming!_ She comes all this way to bring Edward his post, but doesn't bother with mine.

Why was she digging so much for information? Why does she think Edward and I are romantically involved? She's up to something.

As Joan pulls away from the kerb, I can see her watching me in her rear-view mirror, a fake smile plastered over her face. I hope she doesn't mention any of her 'suspicions' to James.

X-X-X-X-X

I collapse onto the sofa, taking the weight off my weary limbs. I've showered and scrubbed all of the orchard grime from my skin. Having just eaten I'm now ready for an indulgent evening of pure relaxation. I pick up one of the collector's edition hardbacks of Edward's. Instead of reading them in order, I have selected my favourite one and I intend to fully escape within its covers.

Looking at the book unfortunately reminds me of Joan. Her house call was extremely strange today. I must make a point of mentioning it to Edward and seeing what he thinks about it all. She seemed so keen to suggest that something untoward was going on between me and Edward. It really rankled with me.

As I stare at the first page of the book, my mind wanders to all the things I set out to do today but was unable to complete. Apart from the orchard, I really haven't achieved much. I compile a mental list of all the things I need to do before James gets home.

Hiding the manuscript is top of the list, disposing of the book in the bathroom bin and putting away all of the photograph albums. I notice Edward's bottle of Amaretto out of the corner of my eye. I'm going to have to hide that somewhere too – until I can return it.

Hmm it would be a shame to return without having tasted it though, it has been an awfully long time since I had one. I decide that I deserve a drink after such a long day. I grab the bottle and dash to the kitchen to find a glass and some ice.

Walking back to the living room, the ice swimming in the liquid, clinking against the side of the glass and the bottle under one arm, I take a small sip of Amaretto, barely wetting my lips. Mmm it tastes so good as it slides down my throat. _Like liquid marzipan!_

I settle back on the sofa, nestling in the spot that is still warm from earlier. I lose myself in the book, taking occasional sips from my drink. It's not long before I have finished my second glass. I better not have a third drink or I'll be having another lie-in tomorrow. I set down my glass on the coffee table, next to the manuscript. Edward's number is staring back at me.

Maybe I should call him, just to make sure he got there ok and that he's all settled in. _It wouldn't be weird would it? _I mean he said to call about anything. I'm sure he'd be glad to hear from me.

I reach for the phone and stare at it, deliberating - to dial, or not to dial. I grab the bottle of amaretto, pour a generous measure and knock half of it back. I shake my head. Ugh, it doesn't taste quite as delicate when gulped. I dial Edward's number and wait. It rings and rings until it eventually connects to the answer-phone.

I don't want to leave a message, but I know I have to otherwise he'll worry. I clear my throat, waiting for the beep and repeating the mantra 'do not say anything stupid' in my head. Finally after Edward's pre-recorded message finishes I speak:

"_Edward, It's Bella...Umm I just called to see how you are, and if you got to London safely? Well, everything's fine with me, no need to call back or anything...I guess I'll see you when you come home. Umm and well, I miss you already. Ok, bye. " _

Miss you already! What was I thinking? He's going to think I'm crazy! Borderline obsessive. The phone rings, interrupting my castigations. I'm still clasping it. I press the answer button greedily and answer it. You can almost hear the smile in my voice, it has to be Edward.

"Hello?"

"Isabella...just checking you're home this evening." My shoulders slump and the smile evaporates from my face. It's James.

"Yes, I'm safely tucked up at home."

"No need for sarcasm, my darling. I was just calling to let you know that I'll be back with you in two days as expected, early on Sunday morning." I breathe a sigh of relief. It's good to know I was right and I have tomorrow to clean this place up and get everything back to normal.

"Ok, well thank you for informing me." I struggle to keep the obvious petulance out of my voice.

"It's a pleasure, Isabella. I know how you like to be abreast of my plans so that you can be sure everything is just so."

"Yes, that's very thoughtful of you." I almost choke on the words as they leave my mouth.

"Well, there's nothing more to say, other than I'll see you Sunday. I'm sure you've missed me. I can't wait to make up for lost time."

"Yes, it's been quiet without you around." _Blissfully quiet and calm!_

"Goodbye Isabella, I love you."

"Love you too, James." With that he's gone, I listen as the line clicks dead.

So much for it being Edward. I'm sure he's out partying, having an amazing time in London, not sparing a single thought for me, no doubt! _Stop being so immature Bella, he is allowed to enjoy himself. _

The phone rings again and I answer it with less enthusiasm this time. James must have forgotten something.

"Hello." My voice sounds bored.

"Bella?" I sigh happily, it's Edward.

"Edward, you called back..." I'm gushing like a fool, words just free-falling from my mouth.

"Of course. I mean I know your message said not to, but I'm just sat in my hotel room watching bad TV."

"You're not out partying?" I try not to sound pleased.

"No. That's not really my scene. A group went out, but I decided to come back here and just relax." He sounds tired.

"I tried to call back earlier, but the line was engaged." He's trying to explain the delay. _How sweet._

"James called just to see how everything is and to let me know that he'll be back on Sunday." I offer up the information freely. _Maybe if Edward knows when James is due back he'll call me again tomorrow._

"Oh right, that's good to know . I'm going to be back on Monday. I thought I'd stop off and see my Mum and Dad on my way back and spend a night with them." I love that he volunteers all of this information. It's a change from the 'need-to-know' basis that James operates.

"That sounds great, I'm sure they'll love to have you visit. So how have things been going in London?" I'm desperate to know what he is up to.

"Boring, the same as usual. I miss home already. What have you been up to today?" He wants to know what I have been doing. _How flattering!_

"It was meant to be a surprise, but I did some more work in the orchard today.

"I hope you were careful in the Orchard, you didn't use the ladder or the saw did you? I'd hate it if you hurt yourself when you're out there all alone." The concern in his voice is palpable.

"I was very careful, you have nothing to worry about. I only told you about the orchard because Joan from the Post Office called round while I was working." I let this information sink in, waiting to see what his reaction is.

Oh that woman is awful! I've stopped going to pick up my letters just to avoid her. What did she want?" I smile at his words.

"To drop off the letters you were avoiding and to accuse me of having an extra-marital affair with you..." I hear Edward splutter on the other end of the line.

"She said what? The nerve of that woman! When I last saw her, she asked me so many questions about my personal life it made my head spin." He sounds really angry.

"I told her she was completely out of order. I just have a strange feeling about her. She's up to something. I don't know what, but she's digging around. You don't think she would go to the press do you?" I chew on my lip nervously.

"I really don't know, Bella, but there's no story to tell. James knows how much time we have spent together and I would never get involved with a married woman anymore than you would cheat on your husband," he speaks confidently.

"Yes, you're right. I just worry for your reputation, I wouldn't want to do anything to damage it." I speak earnestly.

"I wouldn't worry about that, you can't damage it further than it already is." He chuckles mirthlessly.

"Bella, it'll be fine. I'm afraid I'm going to have to say goodnight. I have an early start tomorrow."

I look at the clock, it's nearly midnight.

"Yes, it is getting late," I speak quietly.

"It's been lovely to hear from you. Can I call you tomorrow?" I smile at his question.

"You too. It's very quiet here with you gone. I'd love it if you called me tomorrow."

"Until tomorrow then. Sleep well, Bella." His voice is like velvet.

"You too, Edward." I hang up the phone smiling from ear to ear. Two more days until James is back and Edward misses me – how could things get any better.

I tuck the manuscript under my arm and head up the stairs to bed, determined to rise early tomorrow and have a more productive day.

X-X-X-X-X

I put the removable floorboard back in place, having hidden the manuscript under the floor. I smooth back the carpet and tuck it under the skirting board to keep it in place. I then push the luggage chest back against the wall and stand up.

This is the safest place I can think of to hide it, I don't think that James even knows about it. I found it one day whilst I was vacuuming the room. I wipe off my hands, grab the feather duster and wander into our bedroom to clean off the picture frames. As I hum to myself I hear a familiar rumbling sound outside, I run to the window and look out.

My breath catches in my throat as I see James' car pull up to the house. My head spins and I feel physically sick, my palms instantly become clammy.

He's come home early – _he lied to me!_

**A/n: Oh no the little sneak came home early!  
This story has been nominated for a Twilight All Human Fanfiction Awards. The category I am nominated for is 'Best Fan Fiction of the Year so far'. The competition is tough and voting begins 30****th**** August, so please vote at http : / / twilightallhumanawards(dot)webs(dot)com/nominations(dot)htm**

**Also please check out www(dot)twilightfanfictionworld(dot)com it's a great new site and there is an AFoE group on there, I am posting teasers on there and Twilighted. Also follow them on twitter as ** **TwiFanFicWorld. Afoolishmortal has written a marvellous review of my fic and you can see it on Twilightfanfictionworld, check out her fic at www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/5979914/1/**

**I'm on holiday for some of this weekend, but aim to post next chapter in another 10 days or so. **

**Thanks Flubbles x **


	17. Chapter 17

**A/n: Hello All, Firstly let me apologise for the delay in the posting of this chapter! I am sorry to keep you all waiting. Some of the subject matter in this chapter may be upsetting and is of a delicate nature. Thanks again to the wonderful EMCxo and Jaustenlover for their help and guidance with this chapter. **

**All characters belong to S Meyer, thanks for your time and enjoy...**

Chapter 17

I stuff the last photo album back on the shelf, pushing it forcefully back in place. I'm not confident of the correct order. _Let's hope he isn't either_. I wipe the moisture from my sweaty palms down the front of my trousers, smooth my hair and will my heart - which is hammering against my ribcage - to calm down.

I'm quite out of breath having sprinted down the stairs in the short window of time offered for James to park the car and retrieve his luggage from the boot.

Seeing the Amaretto sitting on the coffee table, I dive across the room and swipe the bottle up. I lay it on the floor on its side and kick it under the sofa using the heel of my shoe; the covers conceal it. I dash to the front door and yank it open ready to greet him. The familiar forced smile is back in place, plastered across my face. My eyes meet his and the hairs on my arms stand on edge, my breath catches in my throat.

"James, you're early! What a wonderful surprise to have you back." I hope that my faux enthusiasm is convincing. I know the scoundrel has come home early just to catch me off guard. I assumed he would be a few hours earlier than his ETA – not days! _But that's the whole point isn't it Bella? You're never really meant to be comfortable, always better to be kept on your toes. _

He approaches me and I lean forward to kiss him on the cheek. He turns his head and kisses me full on the lips, slipping his oily tongue into my mouth. I feign passion and kiss him back.

He smells different, almost floral...feminine. I voice my concerns.

"Have you used a new aftershave? You smell different." I tilt my head to one side waiting for him to answer. He slips an arm around my waist and squeezes me so tightly it's almost painful, his fingers gripping me by my ribcage. His other hand is grasping his luggage.

"Hotel shower-gel – I ran out of my own supply." He offers in explanation and removes his arm, foisting his coat on me. I fumble clumsily with it, almost dropping it, before I hang it up. He tuts at me, shaking his head. He places his luggage in the foyer and makes his way towards the kitchen.

"Is the kettle on? After a journey like that a man really needs a cup of tea." I have my back to him as he speaks. I'm locking the front door as I hear his footsteps halt. Assuming he is waiting for a response from me, I turn on my heel to answer. I see him staring at the hooks which hold all of the keys associated with your average home. I hold my breath watching as he hangs up his own set of keys.

I notice he runs his hand along all of the sets, making a jangling noise of metal on metal as he goes.

"Isabella, where is the spare key?" He doesn't look at me, just stands with his back to me waiting for an answer. _Damn he doesn't miss a trick! _

"Umm, I gave it to Edward. I thought it would be useful for him to have a spare in case we get locked out or need someone to check over the place if we ever go away. You know, just to be on the safe side," I ramble unnecessarily.

"Get it back from him. I will drop off the spare with Joan and Billy. I don't want that man having a key to this house." He continues into the kitchen and I shake my head sadly.

_It's so good to have him home..._

X-X-X-X-X

I wipe my brow with the back of my left-hand as I tackle the baked on grease leftover in the pan from the roast potatoes. The din from the television drifts in from the other room. I assume he's watching some sort of comedy show based on the annoying 'canned' laughter. Occasionally I hear James laugh along.

It must be nice to come home every day and have your food prepared for you and all other associated domestic duties take care of. A bitter smile crosses my lips as I curse him under my breath.

Being waited on hand and foot reminds me of Edward and how he took care of me when I was under the weather. My bitter smile turns into a full-on grin as I think of him. I can still remember the delicious taste of the food and wine he served me. If I kept a diary I would write possibly the lengthiest, most detailed entry ever about that night so that I would be able to relive the moment every time I read it.

That night and the visit to Oxford are definitely in my top 5 list of most amazingly wonderful things that have ever happened to me – ever.

It must be significant that Edward makes up 2 of the entries in my top 5 list. Just thinking of him lifts my mood radically. I have a strong urge to giggle like a giddy schoolgirl. I suppress it.

The sound of James clearing his throat disrupts my pleasant thoughts. I look over my shoulder at him; his face looks perplexed. My eyes travel down his body and settle on his hands, they are white at the knuckles from the force he is exerting to grip the scrap of cloth he is clutching.

At first I don't recognise what he is holding, but then I see the corner and can clearly make out the familiar initials EC. I gulp and drop the items I'm scrubbing into the sink with a dull thud, water splashes over the side of the sink onto the worktop.

I turn my head, taking a shaky breath; I wipe my hands on the bottom of my apron and turn to look at James. I lean back against the sink, the dampness of the spilt dirty washing water bleeding through my blouse.

I was so sure I had been thorough; hiding the alcohol, the manuscript and disposing of the book in the bathroom bin. I completely forgot about the handkerchief. It must've got stuck in the sofa-bed when I put it away and I didn't notice it. _How could I have been so stupid! _

I don't know what to say. Should I feign ignorance about the object? Should I speak first or wait for him? These are all valid questions, but none of them matter as James flies across the room, using his body to pin me against the sink, raising his hand he hold the hankie so close to my face I can almost feel it.

"Imagine my surprise Isabella, when moving a cushion on the sofa I happen across a handkerchief stuffed down the back of the sofa-bed and caught in the mechanism." He breathes heavily through his nose before continuing.

"Ordinarily I would think nothing of it, except to maybe tell you to buck your ideas up on the cleaning front." He pauses to poke me painfully in the shoulder with the index finger of the hand holding the garment.

"However the handkerchief in question has the initials EC emblazoned across them. Did he sleep here?" He looks at me expectantly. I open my mouth and a croak out a sound, but I'm paralysed with shock, unable to speak.

"Did he sleep here? Did you FUCK him you dirty whore?" He roars at me and I whimper back at him shaking my head nervously. His hands grip my upper arms and he shakes me as he speaks, the counter jabbing me in the back painfully.

"You're lying." He takes a step back, letting go of me. His arms hang at his sides and his eyes full of loathing. He drops the material to the floor; it lands between the two of us.

I bend to pick up the scrap of cloth, just as my fingertips brush against the fabric I feel an almighty smack to the side of my head. Instinctively I cover my ear with my hand and scream as the burning pain and shock at being struck travels through me.

"Leave it there!" I look up at him and slowly stand resuming my previous stance, fear stirs in my gut and I begin to shake from nervous energy.

"Explain yourself, Isabella...I'm waiting." His voice has softened, as though striking me has restored his inner calm. But there is still a sinister edge to his tone.

I take a moment, waiting for the blood that is pounding in my ears to cease. I have done nothing wrong. _Why does he treat me this way?_

I do not have anything to be ashamed of.

"D-do you remember the other night when you called and I wasn't home for your initial call, but we spoke the second time you called?" My voice is a little above a whisper. I look at him for confirmation that he knows the night of which I am speaking. He nods at me to continue. I shake my head lightly which causes me pain; I apply gentle pressure to the spot he connected with.

"We argued about my desire to teach and you were displeased that I had gone to dinner with Edward," I pause, wringing my hands. I need to say my peace, but I also need to tread carefully.

"Before I spoke with you, Edward and I had pre-arranged for him to come over for coffee after he had parked his car." I look at James nervously.

"After we had finished speaking, some of the things you said had really upset me." My voice cracks a little and I swallow back the tears.

"Edward came round for coffee and found me in tears-" before I have the chance to finish my sentence James interjects. I see the minute shift in his body language and I instantly flinch, expecting to be hit again.

He ignores this and continues speaking.

"And let me guess, he offers you a loving shoulder to cry on and one thing leads to another. Before you know it you're fucking on the sofa!" His face flushes red with anger.

"You make me sick." He sneers.

"No James, it wasn't like that at all! Edward gave me his hankie to dry my eyes and he left it behind for me when he went home. I would never be unfaithful to you. I'm hurt you could even suggest such a thing." My voice rises indignantly.

"That doesn't explain why it was down the back of the sofa." He arches an eyebrow at me.

I don't wish for James to know that I was unwell whilst he was away and as a result sleeping on the sofa-bed. I'd have to go into details about Carlisle and how much Edward was here. Thinking on my feet I offer up an answer that I hope will massage James' bruised ego.

"While you were away I slept on the sofa-bed. The bed upstairs seemed too big and lonely without you." I look at my feet, lowering my voice and attempting to appear coy.

"I didn't want you to know, so I put the bed back together and didn't say anything." I shrug as I look at him, watching his stance relax.

"You expect me to believe that?" He looks at me in astonishment.

"Yes I do, because it's the truth!" I feel my voice rise before I have a chance to curb it.

"Isabella, all I have is your word. How do I know you're telling me the truth?" He stares at me questioningly.

"James, I am telling you the truth. Please believe me! Nothing happened between Edward and me whilst you were away, or at any time."

"Ok, if I do choose to believe you, I must say I'm just not comfortable with how much time you spend with him." I look at him, waiting to see where he is going with this.

"I have been doing some thinking whilst I was away. You're not going to see him on your own anymore."

"What do you mean, on my own?" I look at him in shock.

"If you still wish to help him with his orchard idea, you can do it once a week when I'm around, on evenings or weekends. Apart from these agreed times you're to have no other contact with him." He points at me with his index finger.

I shake my head.

"No, James, I can't do that. He's my friend. I enjoy spending time with him and I've done nothing wrong." I cross my arms copying his body language.

"It wasn't a request, Isabella. Do you understand me?" He talks through gritted teeth and paces around the kitchen.

"I've been doing some thinking too, whilst you were away James... I-I really don't like how much you order me around." His pacing disturbs me and I feel my bravado crumbling. I will myself not to back down. I concentrate on trying to look resolute, staring straight down at my feet.

"Is this you talking Isabella? Or has Edward filled your head with fanciful ideas? You took a vow to obey me, don't you forget that!" He stops pacing and walks closer to me.

I shudder.

"And you promised to 'cherish' me, not stifle me and force me to be a house-wife." I let the tears that gather at the corners of my eyes spill forth, trailing desolately down my face.

"Force you to be a housewife? Well believe me you're a poor quality one! I should trade you in for a better model." He grabs the front of my apron and rips it from me.

"Look at you, you're slovenly! This place is a mess. You're a mess. You're a complete disappointment." He grabs the dishcloth I was scrubbing with and rings it out over my head. I sob as the dirty water trickles through my hair and down my face, dampening the fabric of my shirt.

"Please stop, James! Please." I beg him and reach out for him, hoping to plead with him. He takes a step back.

"Don't touch me with your grubby hands!" He pushes me away roughly.

I feel myself snap.

"Well if I'm such a rubbish housewife, why don't you let me go out to work? Why don't you get rid of me?" I cannot control my anger any longer.

"Is that what this is about? Your whimsical desire to teach?"

"No! This is about you ordering me not to see Edward anymore unless I have supervision. I am not a child!" I raise my voice as the tears continue to flow.

"I don't trust him and I think you are too naive around him. You're my wife and I don't want you spending more time with another man than you do with me!" He waggles his finger in my face, I resist the urge to swipe it away or bite down hard on the tip of it.

"You don't trust him? I can assure you Edward does not think of me that way. He is still grieving for his wife." I shake my head in confusion. Silence hangs in the air between us. I decide to try and change tact.

"Who is Victoria?" James' face falters for a nano-second before he recovers himself.

"I see what you're doing there, she's a colleague. Don't try to change the subject. I am not the one under scrutiny here." He waves his hands in my general direction.

"James, I'm not going to stop seeing Edward just because you incorrectly think he may have feelings for me. You're being unreasonable." I try to look unwavering.

"Isabella I don't give a shit about what is reasonable. I don't want you to see him unless absolutely necessary and always when I am around. Do I make myself clear?" He bends to pick up the handkerchief and rips it in half before placing it in the rubbish bin. _I hope it didn't have any sentimental significance for Edward._

"As far as I am concerned this discussion is over," he pauses.

"Unless you have anything else to add?" He looks at me, daring me to speak.

"I won't stop seeing Edward." I square my jaw and wipe away the remnants of my tears with the back of my hand.

"You are not to see him, I will make sure of it. Don't test me on this." He crosses the room towards me and grabs my hair roughly at the nape of my neck. He doesn't pull on it, it doesn't hurt at all. He's aware that if I try to pull away from him or struggle, I would only inflict pain upon myself.

"I've had enough of this. I am going out."

He kisses me forcefully, crashing his teeth against my lips, breaking the skin on my bottom lip; the familiar metallic taste of the blood on my tongue. I push him away with the palms of my hand. He smiles knowingly and licks his lips as if savouring the taste.

He lets go of my hair slowly and takes a step back from me making to leave the room. Suddenly I see him spin quickly and I cover my face with my hands, expecting a blow. Instead I hear him chuckle arrogantly.

"Pathetic" is the one word he utters, before spitting on me and stalking from the room, slamming the front door shut behind him.

I slide to my feet, my damp shirt dragging on the cupboard door as I go. I breathe shakily, pressing the sleeve of my blouse to my lips to stop the blood. I close my eyes, tilting my head back, refusing to let another tear fall.

I don't know if that went well or not.

X-X-X-X-X

I try to relax on the sofa in question that caused so much distress and upheaval, having cleaned myself up and changed into my nightclothes. The shrill ring of the phone makes me lose my place on the page I am reading. I lift the receiver and speak into it.

"Hello."

"Hello, Bella."_ It's Edward!_ I forgot he said he would call. Thank heavens James went out to the pub. I dread to think what would have happened were he here to answer the call.

"Oh Edward, it's so good to hear from you," I gush. _The silver lining to my otherwise cloudy day. _

"You too! I've been looking forward to this moment all day. Just the thought of getting to speak with you tonight has been keeping me going throughout my nightmare day." Despite the weariness in his voice, it still sounds as silky smooth and decadent as melted luxury chocolate.

"Nightmare day? Why so?" I'd much rather hear about Edward's day than relive the headache that has been mine . I check the clock and see that I have a while before last orders at the pub - James would never leave before then – and settle back comfortably on the sofa.

"Well, Jane said my chapters were shit, but she always says the first draft is shit and she's usually right." _Oh dear._ I thought the chapters I read were amazing, with barely any room for improvement. _Does that make me a bad pre-reader? _

"Then at a signing, some crazed lady threw herself at me, declaring her undying love and asking me to sign intimate parts of her body." I smother a snigger as I imagine the look of shock that must have been present on Edward's face.

"During the struggle-"

"Struggle?" my voice raises a level.

"Yes, I wasn't exaggerating when I said she threw herself at me! Three security guards had to prise her sharp, well manicured talons from my clothing. It was quite harrowing." I cover my mouth with my hand, trying to suppress my laughter.

"As I was saying, in the struggle she knocked an entire cup of tepid coffee on my crotch. I looked like I had pissed myself, it was mortifying!" At this I am undone, my laughter bubbles forth and I don't even try to hide it.

"Are you laughing at me, Isabella? I am quite fragile as this moment in time you know. I expected more sympathy from one as clumsy as you." I can hear the smile in his voice.

I get my laughter under control, a five minute conversation with Edward and the unpleasantries of my day are almost all forgotten.

"I'm sorry Edward, for laughing. At least it's over now and I'm sure you are a much stronger person for it." I try to sound remorseful.

"It's okay, I'll live I'm sure. So how was your day?" He turns the focus on me and I release a deep sigh.

"That good huh?" he chuckles warmly into the phone.

"Something like that. James came home early. He's at the pub now..." I trail off.

"Hmm, first night back and he goes to the pub. Is that the norm? I mean does he go out every night?" There he is again, with the questions that cut right to the crux.

"Yes, he goes there every night that he is at home. To be honest I am grateful for the break, it's nice to have a few hours apart," I reason with him.

"A few hours sure, but he's been away for a week. I'd have thought he'd be dying to spend the night with you. Well anyway that's none of my business. So I guess you don't need me to phone again after tonight?" I think I detect a hint of sadness in his voice, but I can't be sure.

"Umm yes, I think it would be best if you didn't call again while you are away. Is that ok?" I feel apologetic. I want him to call more than anything, but I'm not foolish enough to fuel the already burning fire between James and me.

"Of course it's okay, Bella. I understand that James is wary of me. I'll just see you when I get back I guess." I can tell from his voice that he doesn't really understand, but that he's willing to keep the peace. _He's a great friend._

"Yes, you'll definitely see me when you get back. Just you try and keep me away." I smile happily.

"Great. Well I should be going to bed. I have to leave early tomorrow to get to my parents for brunch. Enjoy the rest of your weekend and I'll see you on Monday."

"Yes, Monday. Enjoy brunch and say hello to your father for me." I sit forward on the sofa, hugging the receiver to me.

" Will do. Good night, Bella."

"Good night Edward, sweet dreams." With that the line clicks dead, I replace the receiver and smile satisfyingly to myself as I dreamily fall back onto the sofa.

X-X-X-X-X

The key scrapes against the lock as I hear James on the other side of the front door from my vantage point on the sofa. He opens the door slowly. I can tell from his posture that he isn't at all drunk. This puzzles me, after an exchange like ours he would usually go and get slaughtered. I have an uneasy feeling about his sobriety. _I hope I'm wrong about this._

He sees me on the sofa and smiles kindly, this catches me completely unawares. He slips off his coat and shoes at the door and walks slowly into the front room. He joins me on the sofa and takes my hands from my lap and holds them in his, stroking back and forth over my knuckles with his thumb. I have to resist the strong urge to pull away. I half expect him to break a finger or crush my hand. _What on earth is going on._

He looks tired and begins to speak.

"Isabella, whilst I was out, I have been thinking," he pauses.

"Thinking? About what?" I ask curiously.

"Always so impatient Isabella," he chuckles. I blush in response.

"I'm sorry about earlier and how I reacted. Perhaps I have been a little hasty in my instant dismissal of your desire to teach." I sit up straighter as my ears prick up at this admission.

"Really? This isn't some kind of joke?" I ask disbelievingly.

"Yes, really. I'll let you enrol in a course so that you can get your teaching qualification." He nods encouragingly. _Why the sudden change of heart? _

"You will? Oh, James you don't know how much this means to me. Thank you so much." Not one to look a gift-horse in the mouth I grasp the opportunity with both hands.

"Not so fast Isabella, there is one condition..." His face is blank. Of course, there are always conditions.

"What condition?" I am almost afraid to ask.

"You cease all communication with Edward Cullen." James smiles self-righteously.

My head spins and I feel nauseous.

**A/n: Lastly a shameless plug! I have been nominated for a Twilight All Human Award. You can cast your vote here ****http : / / twilightallhumanawards(dot)webs(dot)com / voting(dot)htm**** I am in the section 'The best fanfiction of the year so far'**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/n: Hey all, here's the latest chapter, hope you all enjoy it. Big thanks as ever to the wonderful xoEMC and Jaustenlover for their help with this chapter.  
All characters belong to S Meyer. Enjoy all x**

Chapter 18

I blink at him in shock as my mouth falls open. Cease all communication with Edward? _Never!_

"James you're being ridiculous. Why must you always give with one hand and take with the other?" I ask earnestly.

"Such is life my darling. We can't have everything all the time," he answers arrogantly.

"So what is your answer?" He looks at me expectantly, almost as if he truly believes this is a remarkable opportunity he is making available to me. A few months ago I would have walked over hot coals for an opportunity like this.

Situations and people change. I have other things to focus on now, other activities to enjoy. Teaching doesn't need to be my only outlet anymore. I have Edward now.

Perhaps it's the company of Edward that makes me feel more empowered, but I just don't take James' proposition at face value.

True, he is promising that I can enrol in a course, which, when completed would mean I would be a qualified teacher. However, he hasn't actually said he will let me work as a full-time teacher.

"If, I said yes..." I pause, trying to select the right words to voice next.

"After qualifying, would you then be supportive of me if I took on a teaching role?" I hold my breath, so much hinges on this one answer.

He shuffles on the sofa awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck, letting out an agitated sigh. I notice how the nails on his stubby fingers are bitten down to the quick. His hands aren't a patch on Edward's. I remember how soft his skin was and how confident his strong, slender fingers were when he bandaged my hand. I shake my head to bring me back into the moment. _I escape into my memories of Edward now, more than I do his novels._

"Now don't go getting ahead of yourself, Isabella. We'll see how the course goes before we make any drastic decisions like that." He reaches out and pats my hand condescendingly. He has no intention of ever letting me teach. He is just dangling a carrot in front of me! Keep me away from Edward and offer me the course as a sweetener. _Damn him I knew it!_

I slide my hand out from under his and move a little further away from him before speaking.

"I'm sorry James; I just need to make sure I understand this clearly before I agree to anything." I look at him pleadingly, he nods begrudgingly.

"You're offering me the opportunity to attain my teaching qualifications, in return for severing all contact with Edward. Is that correct?" I stare at him questioningly.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm offering." He smiles happily, seemingly pleased that I understand.

"But to be clear, you're not promising that after qualifying I will be able to teach? You're effectively agreeing to let me take one step closer to achieving my dream, but not actually allowing me to fulfil it?" I pause briefly, waiting for my words to sink in. His face is unchanging and I continue.

"So, you'll allow me one academic year out from all this." I motion with my hands to indicate everything that surrounds us. "In return, for never speaking to a good friend, for the rest of my life. And that doesn't seem unfair to you?" I look at him sadly, willing him to see my point of view.

"Damn you Isabella! You always do this." He rises from the sofa and goes to stand by the fireplace, resting his hands on the mantelpiece. He has his back to me and is looking in the mirror glaring at me.

"Don't spin this into something it isn't. You've always wanted to teach. Why won't you just accept my offer? What is so special about Edward Fucking Cullen anyway?" He grimaces and his shoulders tense.

"This isn't about Edward anymore; this is about you controlling me. I have done nothing wrong. Why do you feel the need to offer me an ultimatum like this?" My voice rises and I feel my heart hammering in my chest. I clasp my hands together to stop them shaking.

He whirls round to look at me, his eyes land on the teacup and saucer which sit on the small table. It belonged to my Mother; it was her favourite and one of the few things I have left of hers. I use it all the time, drinking from it makes me feel closer to her, almost like she's still here.

Before I have a chance to act he bends to scoop it up and throws it against the wall, the delicate bone china smashes into a thousand pieces.

I jump, but keep my face expressionless, acting as though his gesture hasn't fazed me in the slightest. Inside I'm inconsolable, desperate to crawl across the floor, grab all the pieces and clutch them to my chest. I stare at him, channelling all of my hatred at him.

"This is a one-time only offer Isabella. We won't ever have this discussion again, be very sure about your answer." He breathes deeply, his upper body heaving with each movement.

"I understand that James, but I can't do it." My voice is barely above a whisper.

"Can't do what?" His body language is confrontational.

"Thank you for your offer," I pause.

"But I can't accept your conditions, so I will have to say no to the teaching course." I hang my head, my hair covering my face.

He slowly walks towards me. I watch his feet as they cross the room and come to a stop just next to me. I scan my eyes up his body, pausing momentarily on his clenched fists before looking him in the eye.

"I don't want you to be friends with that man. Understand?" He stares at me unblinking. I open my mouth to speak, but he reaches forward and clamps one hand over my mouth and nose, cutting off my oxygen, the other hand reaches round the back of my head, his fingers grabbing a handful of my long hair roughly.

"Your only option is to answer yes, so you can simply nod your head." I make no movement. I feel him apply more pressure on my head and I whimper, I don't want to panic because it will make it even more difficult to breathe. I feel myself getting light-headed and in defeat, I nod minutely.

He lets go and I gasp for air, a smug smile plays at his lips. He strides past me and pauses at the bottom stair.

"Bring me a glass of water, I'll be waiting in bed." I watch his retreating form as he ascends the staircase.

I rise shakily from the sofa and walk to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard I fill it with water from the tap. I take a long drink and place the glass back down on the counter. Closing my eyes I mull over the one-sided discussion I was just party to.

Technically, I didn't promise to stop seeing Edward, I just confirmed that I understood his desire for me to stop seeing Edward._ I can't stop seeing Edward._

He's the only thing in my life that brings me any pleasure. He provides me with challenges that allow me to think, his conversation is involving and educational, and we have so many things in common.

There is absolutely no way that I will sever ties with Edward and he cannot make me. My mind made up, I feel an overwhelming inner calm. I truly believe I can pull the wool over James' eyes and still indulge in my friendship with Edward. _I have to._

Feeling resolute, I fill up the glass again and quietly make my way upstairs, entering our bedroom. All of the lights are out except for a small bedside lamp that outlines James' frame under the covers. I walk around the bed and place the glass on the small table. Before I have a chance to let go, his hand darts out from under the covers and grabs me around the wrist, I almost knock the drink over in shock.

"I don't want you in my bed tonight, or in this room. Sleep downstairs." His voice is emotionless as he lets go of my wrist. I don't utter a word. Instead, I walk back around the bed and bend to retrieve my pillows. He turns in the bed to glare at me.

"Leave those, you don't deserve them." I nod and release the pillows. I turn to the door and pause to take my dressing gown that is hanging on the back. I let myself out of the room.

I'm actually relieved he doesn't want me in his bed. I assume he has done this as a punishment because he truly believed my story about missing him while he was away and he thinks that this would upset me. He's actually granted me a reprieve. My chest feels lighter as I make my way downstairs to sleep on the sofa.

X-X-X-X-X

James continues to ignore me over the weekend He takes occasional breaks from his silence to hurl insults and abuse in my direction, or to give out an instruction or two. When he gets drunk the following night, I have to dodge a few fists. Only last night did he let me sleep in the bed again. As he goes to work this morning, he reminds me to stay away from Edward and stay in the house. I nod dutifully and promise that I will. My fingers are crossed behind my back the entire time!

I have missed Edward so much over these past few days I have been climbing the walls. I didn't realise how much a part of my daily routine he has become until he went away. I have an aching emptiness when he isn't near.

He said he'd be home today and since James left for work, I have been peeking out of the window, waiting to see him pull up in his car. My patent black shoes shine up at me as I look down at my feet, I made an extra special effort for him today. I readjust the belt of the dark grey woollen dress I'm wearing and remove an imaginary piece of fluff from my white cardigan. On what must be at least the tenth time of checking, I see his car pull up to the house. I allow myself a small squeal of joy before I spring into action.

I fling the door open and run down the path. He looks up at me from behind his sunglasses as he sits behind the wheel. His face breaks out into an infectious grin and he waves exaggeratedly at me. Fumbling with his seatbelt, he lets himself out of the car. I pause briefly to look at him, the mid-morning sun picks out the auburn tones in his hair, the light bouncing off the individual strands. He's dressed casually in dark-wash jeans, with a button down shirt and a Harris Tweed blazer, looking preppy and distinguished at the same time.

I pick up my feet and run the short distance toward him as he takes off his aviators and opens his arms to me. I run into his outstretched arms and a take a huge lungful of air. He smells of aftershave, shampoo and Edward - it's an intoxicating mix.

I close my eyes, smiling to myself and sighing as I press my cheek into his chest. His strong arms come round to hold me in a tight embrace, the fingers of one hand swirling through my hair, the other splayed out over my back. _He's home and so am I!_

Time is irrelevant as we stand there hugging tightly, Edward presses his cheek to the top of my head and I hear him breathe deeply as well. He's the first to pull away as he takes a step back, but he maintains contact by resting his hands on my shoulders.

"I should go away more often, that was a lovely welcome home." He chuckles. I smile back so strongly my cheeks actually begin to feel strained. I don't care though; he's back and the last few days with James now seem a distant bad memory.

"Don't even think about it, I missed you too much!" I try to look stern, but from the grin on his face I can tell I haven't succeeded. He pulls me close again and gives me another hug, his chins rests atop my head and I feel it bob as he speaks.

"Don't worry Miss Swan, I have no plans to go away again anytime soon." We stand apart and I give him some room. He makes his way to the rear of the car and opens the boot, revealing an overnight bag and a few shopping bags. I reach out to pick up a few of the items, but he fans me away.

"I'll take care of those Bella, even if I have to make two trips. How are the knees by the way?" I'm soothed by his concern. He doesn't forget a thing.

"Much better thank you, with Carlisle's medical prowess and your bedside manner I'm fully recovered." We hover by the boot of his car just enjoying each other's company.

"Let's get these things inside. I have some presents in here for you." He smiles at me over his shoulder, a twinkle in his eyes as I follow his retreating form towards the house.

"A present? Oh, Edward I wish you wouldn't. I really don't like to think of you spending your money on me." I call out after him.

"Then don't think about it. Besides, it's more of a tool to aid you with the work you are doing for me." His hands full, he fumbles with his keys, trying to get the door open. I slide them from his fingers and deftly unlock the door. Pushing it open wide so that he can enter first, he makes no effort to move and just nods his head and motions with the bags to indicate that I should go first.

I blush and walk past him into the house, making my way to the kitchen.

"Shall I put the kettle on?" I enquire.

"Why not, I'll get the rest of the things from the car." He stacks all of the items on the table, the paper bags make a crunching noise as they collapse under their own weight. As far as I'm aware only expensive shops give you paper bags and tissue for your purchases. While he goes back out to the car I resist the urge to peek through the bags and busy myself by making us a drink.

X-X-X-X-X

A beautifully wrapped package sits in front of me, a midnight blue paper bag with a silver ribbon tied into an intricate bow atop the handles. A small rectangular tag in the same shade as the bag is attached. The name Bella is inscribed in the most exquisite calligraphy; I almost wished it said 'Isabella' just so I could see how my full name would look in the ancient script.

I suppress the urge to rip the bag open; instead I reach out with my left-hand and lightly tug on the end of the ribbon. I marvel as the bow comes away, unravelling into one long length of material. Smiling I look up at Edward, he's on the edge of his stool leaning across the table as much as he possibly can. He's fidgeting with nervous energy. I know he's willing me to work faster and it almost makes me want to slow my already tortoise-like pace.

I take the bow and wind it round and round my fingers until it forms a small loop, I then set that to one side and pull the bag open, I peer inside. There are two items in the bag, both wrapped in grey metallic effect tissue-paper. I take the first odd shaped object out and run my fingers around it, trying to work out what might be concealed within the tissue.

"Come on Bella, this is painful. Can't you go any faster?" Edward begs, his eyes widening.

I chuckle to myself and rip the tissue paper away messily, scattering small sections over the table to reveal a mug. I burst out laughing when I read the text emblazoned across the front: 'WHEN IN DOUBT BREW UP'. I look up at Edward and he's smiling too.

"I saw it and thought of you immediately! Do you like it?" His timing is impeccable, providing a replacement for my recently destroyed cup. I will just have to be sure not to use it around James.

"I love it! Every time I use it, I'll think of you." I reach a hand across the table and squeeze Edward's hand.

"Hmm, now what else is in here?" I take hold of a fairly light object. As I unwrap it I recognise the brand, Charbonnel et Walker Chocolates- oh they're truly divine. I've only had them once before, Father bought Mother a box for her birthday. These will have to be hidden and rationed; I want this box to last as long as possible.

"Edward, how did you know? I adore this brand of chocolate!" I gush at him.

"I thought you might." He winks at me knowingly.

"That time you made us hot chocolate, I noticed you used this brand and it was the best hot chocolate I've ever had. So when I saw these in Liberty's, I thought they would have to be pretty special." He shrugs. _The man doesn't miss a thing! _

"You've never tried these? Well we have to rectify that." I peel the cellophane from the box and lift off the lid, the strong rich smell of high quality chocolate assaults my nostrils. I lift off the paper and select a marzipan square enveloped in thick dark chocolate. I hold it between my thumb and forefinger and lift it up.

I look at Edward and he opens his mouth waiting for me to feed him the chocolate. I feel myself blush as the blood rushes to my cheeks. I gulp and pop the chocolate in his mouth, lingering a little as his lips brush against my finger.

He closes his eyes and makes a low purr of appreciation. I watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows the chocolate. My mouth drops open as I stare at him dreamily, watching him eat, he's so sensual.

When he opens his eyes I'm still staring. I close my mouth and look away bashfully.

"Let me feed you..." His voice is lower than usual.

I look up at Edward, his eyes are half-closed and he's looking at me from behind his long lashes. I feel hypnotised by him and I nod without realising it. He rises from the table and comes to stand by me. I watch as his dextrous fingers select a chocolate. Opening my mouth, he places the chocolate on my tongue. I close my eyes and chew the Marc Du Champagne truffle, the taste spills over and as I swallow it's gone far too quickly.

I open my eyes and see that Edward is watching me intently. He clears his throat and reaches for another bag that I hadn't seen until now. He presents an oblong box to me and I look up at him.

"Edward, what's this? Another gift? That's so unnecessary." He smiles at me confidently.

"Well this is the item of work equipment I promised you. As you don't have a computer, I thought this was the least I could do." He watches me intently. I open the box and I'm struck dumb by the Mont Blanc logo. He's bought me a pen to use for his chapters...but in true Edward style it's not just any pen, it's the king of pens.

I gasp and look up at him. He nods for me to open the case. Staring back at me is a black fountain pen with platinum lines cut into it, the nib is made of gold and as I remove it from the case it feels perfectly weighted in my hand. In short, it's wonderful.

I delicately place it back in the case and set it on the table, I stand and on tip-toe I reach out and kiss him once on the cheek.

"Thank you so much, it's beautiful and entirely too expensive. I would refuse to accept it, but I know that would offend you." I smile at him and he laughs back at me.

"Yes, you're right! There's lots of ink for it too, so you should be good for a while. Just let me know when you're running low," he states matter-of-factly.

I look at my collection of presents on the table; they are all wonderful and I love each and every one of them. _Where are you going to hide them though Bella? That hidey-hole of yours is getting mighty full!_

"Did you hear me Bella? I said the trees are being delivered by the end of the week. We're going to have to get cracking on the orchard. I'm going to need you practically every day this week and for the next few weeks. Will that be ok?" I must've been staring at my gifts longer than I thought.

Every day this week! That's music to my ears.

"Shouldn't be a problem for me, I can't wait to get started." I smile brightly to reassure him.

The only problem I've got is that husband of mine. _I'm going to have to be extremely careful over the coming weeks._

**A/n: Hope you all enjoyed that chapter, let me know in a review if you have time! See you on twitter. xx**_  
_


	19. Chapter 19

**A/n: Hello All, I am trying to not make you wait so long between updates, so I hope the last 10 days hasn't been too difficult to endure. I want to thank xoEMC for her beta duties and Jaustenlover for her help with this chapter, during one of her craziest working weeks ever! Stephanie Meyer created these characters, I just plonked them on flight to the UK for my personal amusement. **

**Enjoy xx **

Chapter 19

Today is an integral day in the development of the orchard. All of the saplings are to be delivered. It's the only thing I can think of while I sit at the kitchen table sipping my tea. I struggle not to fidget with excitement, feigning interest in the tedious news items that James is reciting from behind the sheets of the tabloid newspaper he's reading.

Edward and I are going to spend the whole day digging and planting. It'll be hard-going but so rewarding. We have plans to break for a well deserved picnic lunch. I made some scones last night which are squirrelled away in the back of the kitchen cupboard. A batch of my homemade strawberry conserve is nestled with them. The clotted cream is chilling in Edward's fridge in anticipation. The savoury offerings and other refreshments are his domain.

My eyes dart from the clock, to James and back to the clock again. Any minute now he'll be setting off for work and I can go and see Edward. We've been carrying on like this for a few weeks now. As much as it pained me, I was forced to explain to Edward that James was not keen on my helping in the orchard and I asked if we could keep it just between ourselves. He agreed begrudgingly, I wouldn't have been able to keep up the illusion without his assistance.

I have my suspicions that he already harbours a dislike for James. We haven't really discussed it at length. I can't burden Edward with all of my problems. He has demons of his own to battle, he doesn't need to concern himself with the inner workings of my relationship with James. I am fearful of James, his volatile temper can be explosive, but I'm aware that he is also extremely insecure. He only tries to control me, to give himself some sense of purpose.

Since his return from London, James has been working longer hours. It has lessened some of the pressure he usually heaps on my shoulders. He doesn't expect dinner every night anymore, saying he prefers to eat at the office. Some evenings he doesn't come home until 9pm and then gets changed into something casual and goes straight out to the pub. We're becoming like ships in the night – all of which makes it a little easier to keep my orchard liaisons a secret.

Any time James and I do spend together is littered with leading questions, almost like an interrogation. Often he'll recall my previous answers in an attempt to catch me out. I have to always be on my guard, making sure that I'm not caught out by my own elaborate lies. Some days it's relentless: "_Did you see Edward today? What did you do with your day? Have you spoken with anyone today? Are you certain you didn't speak with Edward? Has he tried to make contact with you?_"

When he's drunk, the questions take on a more desperate tone: "A_re you cheating on me? Do you love me? Do you wish you were with Edward instead of me? Would you ever be unfaithful to me? Have you ever been unfaithful? Why do you love me? Would you ever lie to me?"_ It's becoming exhausting and I'm doing my utmost not to get weighed down by it all.

The hissing of a large vehicle pulling up outside the house and the clanging of the tail-lift being let down shatters the awkward silence in the kitchen. I bite the inside of my cheek with excitement, trying to stifle a small knowing smile. The delivery is here!_ Damn you James, go to work! _

James clears his throat, closes the newspaper he is reading and folds it in half, resting it on the table. Rising, he gulps down the last of his black coffee; this movement is a silent request that he is ready to receive his suit jacket and briefcase. I walk unasked to the hallway and retrieve both of these items, helping him into his jacket.

"What's all the commotion outside? Is Cullen getting a delivery?" James new thing seems to be calling Edward by his surname. I think it's his way of expressing his contempt for Edward. I shrug in answer to James, knowing full well exactly what is being delivered.

Subtle questions like this are his way of trying to wheedle information out of me. I hand over his briefcase and remain mute, waiting for him to break the silence.

"The kitchen is looking grotty. Clean it thoroughly today." He talks to me dismissively. I nod in answer.

"Will you want dinner tonight, James?" I enquire.

"No, I have a dinner to attend after work, I'll be back late. Don't bother preparing anything. I'm sure you'll be glad of the free time." He arches his eyebrow at me. I keep my face expressionless, a picture of innocence.

He holds my chin between his thumb and forefinger; he bends, kissing me on the lips. He pulls away, but his hand lingers, holding my face tightly so that I cannot break his gaze.

"How have you been finding it, staying away from our neighbour?" He sneers at me as his grip tightens.

"It's fine. As your wife I respect your wishes." I stare back at him unblinking, my jaw clenches as I try to look convincing.

"Good. I'm pleased with you, Isabella. You've been incredibly mature about this." He gives me a pat on the shoulder and turns on his heel, opening the door he vacates the house.

I don't shut the door fully; instead I peer through the crack in the door and strain my neck to eavesdrop on the curt conversation that takes place between James and Edward.

_"__Orchard coming along nicely Edward?" _

_"__Yes, thank you James. It's tiring but extremely rewarding." _

_"__Shame Isabella can't help you anymore, but as you know she's terribly busy with her other commitments." _

_The arrogant twerp!_ I close the door and stamp my foot in disgust, not waiting to hear Edward's response. I look down at my hands and see they are both clenched into fists, the nails digging into my palms. _If only he knew the half of it._ I get an intense pleasure from knowing that I am having the last laugh.

X-X-X-X-X

I see Edward lugging the last of the trees into the orchard; he stops and wipes his brow with a gloved hand. He looks gorgeous as usual, wearing a muscle hugging red check-shirt, the sleeves are folded back to his elbows. I can see the muscles in his forearms rippling as he removes the gloves and runs his hands through his hair, sweeping it back off his forehead. His strong legs are wrapped in soft looking well-worn denim. A sturdy pair of work boots completes the look.

I love just watching him; I could spy on him for hours. Not today though, we have work to do. I resist the urge to wolf-whistle at him as he takes a drink from a bottle of water; the sunlight catches on the glimmering liquid. The weather is perfect, sunny with a gentle breeze to cool even the most vigorous of workers.

I call out to Edward. He stops drinking immediately and looks around to see where the noise is coming from. A look of relief washes over his face as his eyes rest on me. He smiles lazily and slowly jogs towards me. When he reaches me he stops and bends to kiss me on the cheek.

"Good Morning Bella. I had the pleasure of a brief conversation with your husband earlier." He rolls his eyes and I cringe inwardly.

"Yeah I saw. Do I really want to know what he said?" I sigh wearily.

"It was nothing very important. He was asking about the orchard and he couldn't help but comment that it was a shame you are no longer able to help me." Edward looks slightly amused. I know he doesn't approve of lying to James, but I think he is beginning to see why it is necessary.

"I'm sorry Edward." I shrug apologetically.

"I just don't understand why he has such a problem with me. The idea that he feels so threatened he finds it necessary to forbid you from socialising with me is just ludicrous. Obviously, you are extremely attractive, but you're married. I would never cross that line." His voice is filled with hurt and confusion. My chest swells with pride at his words – extremely attractive. I lift a hand to my hair self-consciously.

"Really Bella, I have no idea why he struggles to trust you. You're one of the most honest people I know." I feel myself blush.

"Well that's not strictly true anymore. I lie to him on a daily basis! But he's forced my hand. His pig-headedness makes it necessary for me to sneak around like this." I sigh exasperatedly.

"Anyway, that's enough about him. We've got lots to do and it'll be lunchtime before we know it." I raise the basket on my arm to emphasise the point. Edward tries to lift the cloth to see what's inside. I smack his hand away and place a palm flat on his chest, pushing him back gently. His shirt is damp with sweat and I can feel the well defined muscles of his chest through the fabric.

He holds up his hands in a sign of defeat and lets me stroll past him to make my way into the house via the conservatory. I place the basket on the cluttered kitchen table and make my way back outside to the garden. Edward is digging a hole for the first tree, I stride over to him and stand to one side as the pile of earth he is removing becomes larger and larger.

"Edward, are we really going to be able to manage all this by ourselves? I mean is there anyone else that could help you with the donkey work? I know I'm not of much use." I look at the ground glumly and poke at a rock with my shoe. I struggle to see what I can really do to help him today.

"Hey where did that come from? Of course we can manage it. I don't care how long it takes. We'll see this through together." He stops digging and rests an arm on the spade, lifting my chin with his other hand so that I'm forced to look at him. It's so similar and yet so different to the way James held me earlier. He seems so confident. I will myself to believe him, but I struggle to feel his enthusiasm.

"Bella, I promise." He smiles reassuringly.

"I'm sorry, sometimes all the creeping around just gets to me I guess. I feel like I can't truly enjoy what we are accomplishing." I feel my eyes tear up and I wipe my nose with the back of my hand.

"Ignore me. I'm just feeling a bit emotional. Is there another spade?" I smile back thinly, trying to appear positive and useful.

"Sure, in the shed." He nods his head in the general direction and starts digging.

"If there was something else wrong, you would tell me wouldn't you?" He keeps his head down as he speaks, pretending to be engrossed in his work.

"Of course. I'm sorry, I don't mean to be so miserable. I don't know what's got into me." I am so disappointed with myself. The time I spend with him is precious. I really don't need to spoil it by being melancholic.

I get down to work in an effort to clear my head. The manual labour is surprisingly therapeutic, and as we work the orchard quickly begins to take shape. The perfectly uniform rows of trees are satisfying to my eyes. Their purpose defined now as they simply need to grow and bear fruit while we nurture them.

I look up at the sun, shielding my eyes from its bright rays. Judging by its height in the sky, it must almost be time to break for lunch. I direct my gaze to Edward and as our eyes meet a slow smile spreads across his face as he stops digging to rub his toned stomach.

I nod back at him. We both lay down our tools and run to the kitchen, trying to race each other. Laughing loudly, Edward gets to the kitchen first and tries to use his frame to block the doorway so I cannot enter. I wheedle my way past him, poking him in the ribs as I go. Laughing breathlessly, I get as far as the kitchen table before I feel his strong arms wrap around my waist.

He lifts me up and carries me over to the corner of the room. I wriggle and squeal the entire time trying to prise his hands apart. I feel his laughter on the back of my neck as I squirm and continue to generally be difficult to ensnare. He is completely unfazed by my struggles and deposits me on a vacant chair.

He bends so that he is on the same eye level as me and clamps a hand on either arm of the chair. I feel his breath fan out across my face, lightly blowing the strands of hair that have fallen over my brow. It's intoxicating. He's grinning devilishly at me and I am entranced by his beautiful eyes. The irises are bottle-green with tiny amber flecks and his long eyelashes are hypnotising.

"Bella, we agreed that lunch was my way of saying thank you for your help. Now you sit here like a good girl while I get everything together, then we'll head down to the river to eat." He smiles at me, his eyebrows raised, waiting for me to submit.

"Ok, I'll behave. I promise." I widen my eyes trying to look as earnest as possible.

"Good." He gives me a peck on the forehead and wanders over to the sink to wash his hands. After drying them on a towel, he disappears into the larder. He returns holding a picnic hamper and begins to fill it from the fridge. I twist and fidget in my seat, trying to see what he is placing in the hamper.

He glances over at me a number of times, chuckling to himself as he witnesses my struggle to remain seated. When he's finished filling the hamper, he grabs a blanket, two wine glasses and places them next to the basket I brought round earlier.

"As a reward for your patience, would you like to wash-up and accompany me for lunch madam?" He clears the way to the sink with a sweep of his arm and I rise to wash my hands. After drying them on the same towel he used moments ago, I curtsey exaggeratedly in response to his use of Madam. He smiles and nods his head, doffing an imaginary cap before offering me the basket and his arm. I take both gladly and watch as he dexterously gathers up the remaining items, with his other free arm. We leave the house and make our way to the bottom of the orchard.

X-X-X-X-X

The remnants of our lunch are spread out before us as Edward pours tea from the flask to accompany the scones that I have just dressed with strawberry conserve and lashings of clotted cream.

The feast he served up was scrumptious: Melton Mowbray pork pie, crumbly Wensleydale cheese interspersed with fresh cranberries, strong Stilton that almost tickles the hairs in your nose complimented by Nairn's oatcakes and tiger bread rolls. That wasn't all of the food by any means, there was also smoked mackerel pate, grapes, apple, celery and Branston pickle. This was all washed down with long glasses of chilled elderflower fizz. I was almost stuffed, but determined to save room for the scones.

As I lie back on the blanket having eaten my fill, I rub my stomach contentedly. A small sigh leaves my lips. I turn to Edward and smile happily.

"That was a brilliant feast, Edward. Thank you so much."

"It was my pleasure. Thanks for the delicious scones." He shuffles and moves to lie beside me staring up at the sky through the canopy of tree leaves above us, the gentle flow of the water is so relaxing.

"It's so beautiful down here. You should get a small rowing boat so you can go out on the river." I smile interlinking my hands on top of my stomach.

"I have thought about it. Tanya loved boats and sailing, so I guess that is why I have dragged my feet a bit. She would have loved it here. It would've been a great place to raise a family." I turn on my side to look at him and I notice his eyes are moist. I reach out a hand, interlink it with his, and give it a gentle squeeze. He closes his eyes and smiles sadly, squeezing my hand back.

"Edward, I know you don't like to talk about this, but what happened with Tanya really wasn't your fault. There's still time for you to meet someone and have children, if that is what you want." I lower my voice, hoping that my words aren't spoken out of turn.

"You sound like my mother." He sighs tiredly.

"She sounds like a wise woman."

He opens one eye to look at me and breaks out into a quiet laugh.

"What's so funny?" I enquire.

"Well, I spoke to her about you, and she said exactly the same thing about you."

_He spoke to his mother about me? Why would he do that? Oh god, what did he say. _

"You spoke to your mother about me?" I try not to sound too elated.

"Yeah, I was telling her about my new neighbour, the orchard, etc, and how I was generally getting on in the village. Not to mention that my father had met you and said some complimentary things about your baking." He shrugs as though it isn't a big deal.

I feel my cheeks flush at the thought of him discussing me with his parents. I wish I had someone to discuss Edward with; to talk about his amazing support and understanding over the short time that we have known each other. _I suppose I should just be grateful to have Edward in my life._

I roll closer to Edward and rest my head on his chest, closing my eyes. I worry that this is a step too far, but as I feel his arm come to wrap around my back I realise that he needs the comfort as well.

"Edward, you do deserve to be loved. You're one of the most compassionate people I have ever met. Please don't sell yourself short, or live a half-life. You have a wonderful heart and you should share it with another. I also think you'd make a brilliant father, time is a great healer." I feel tears pricking at the corner of my eyes as I snuggle closer into his side.

"Hey, I'll be alright, honestly. I know what you're saying is right. I suppose I just haven't found the one yet. My heart is still grieving for Tanya." He reaches a hand to stroke my hair and I sniff sadly, trying to blink away my tears. I hate to see him hurting.

We lay together for quite a while before we decide it's time to clear away the picnic and get back to work. Lugging all of the items back up to the house, we talk jovially. The emotional conversations left by the riverbank. I've no doubt that we'll discuss Tanya again, as I've no doubt that one day I will have to discuss James further with Edward.

For now, we set to finish planting the rest of the trees. It has to be done today, it's not good for them to be left in their pots. As the final tree is planted by Edward and the earth patted down around it by me, I'm distracted by what I think is the sound of a car pulling up outside.

I think nothing of it and we continue to clear away our tools in the shed then wash off our hands in the kitchen. I glance over at Edward and from his look, he knows it's that time again, when I must go home. I could stay longer because James is not due home until later tonight, but what do they say about too much of a good thing? I also need to clean the kitchen down, though I have a few ideas of where to cut corners.

"Edward, I'll leave the scones here. We can always snack on them tomorrow." I don't think James deserves to have any.

"Umm sure, if there are any left." He winks at me and pats his tummy.

I shake my head chuckling at him.

"Well, I had better get going," I say, resigning myself to the idea.

"Yep, you'd better." I stand on my tiptoes and give Edward a kiss on the cheek. He pulls me in for a hug and lifts me off the ground a couple of inches before setting me back down again and placing his hands in the back pocket of his jeans.

"Thanks a lot for this afternoon. It was..." he searches for the right word, "helpful."

"You're welcome." I squeeze his forearm and walk to the front of the house. He follows me, but veers off to the front room as I leave the house via the front door. I hear the piano start-up as I make my way down the path. The music sounds more hopeful than the previous tunes I've heard him play. This makes me feel as though perhaps I have helped a little this afternoon.

As I turn my head, I notice James' car parked in the street, instead of in the driveway. _That's strange._ He must've stopped off to collect something. Thinking quickly, I fabricate an excuse that I have been for a walk over the neighbouring fields to clear my head as I was suffering from a headache. That would explain the walking boots and mud on my legs.

The front door is unlocked and I shut it behind me, preparing myself to appear pleasantly surprised at his unexpected house-call. I walk through to the kitchen, becoming alarmed when I can smell burning. I turn to look out the window and time seems to stand completely still.

James is in the garden, dressed in his work clothes, standing in front of a small fire; the low flames licking up around his ankles. I watch as he holds up an item and places his Zippo lighter to the bottom right corner. As it ignites, James changes his stance marginally and I can see the item he is burning.

My breath catches in my throat and I feel sick to the pit of my stomach. He has found my hidey-hole! He is burning all of my copies of Edward's books and newspaper clippings.

A feral scream erupts from my chest as I pull at my hair sharply. I wrench open the back door and seeing red, I run from the house launching myself at James. I flail around and scream like a banshee, clawing at him, begging him to stop. He doesn't speak, nor does he acknowledge me, he just continues to stoke the fire.

I try to gather any items that he hasn't already burnt, only just resisting the strong desire to thrust my hands into the fire to retrieve the other objects.

He drags me back from the fire roughly. His arms wrapped around my waist. I struggle against him and a string of obscenities spill forth from behind my lips. I spin in his tight grasp. I feel my fingernails connect with his face and I claw at him until I feel a damp sticky sensation and I see his blood beneath my fingernails.

Stunned he drops me to my feet, clutching his face in his hands in pain. I clasp one of the partially charred books to my chest and sob as I rock back and forth.

**A/n: Eek! What now for poor Bella, all of her lovely books! Thank you all for your wonderful reviews, I adore reading them. Your reactions and intellect are amazing, I try to reply to as many as possible. Flubbles x**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/n: Hello everyone! Huge grovelling, apologies for the gap between chapters, real-life boringness got in the way a lot for me this month - Gosh it's been that long! A big thanks to my amazing friend and beta xoEMC, pre-reader JAustenLover and gorgeous SQicedragon for their support, understanding and all-round loveliness. **

**Thanks to the ladies on the forum for their unnecessary concern, ginginlee, rachxoxo7, teaddict, DataGirl3, Swannies10 (swino) thanks to all of you for persevering and being so patient.**

**Finally, hello to everyone on twitter, including but not limited to: ** **mrs_fifty, Sunnysnark, MoniNP, 1Lavishone, AFMtoo, shoeluvvr (aka my lovely noralw), annetteinoz, Quietruby, lemonmartinis, odiejae, sscana, Raizie7, ousierb, chitwigal. **

**Here is a recap of the end of the last chapter:**

_James is in the garden, dressed in his work clothes, standing in front of a small fire; the low flames licking up around his ankles. I watch as he holds up an item and places his Zippo lighter to the bottom right corner. As it ignites, James changes his stance marginally and I can see the item he is burning._

_My breath catches in my throat and I feel sick to the pit of my stomach. He has found my hidey-hole! He is burning all of my copies of Edward's books and newspaper clippings._

_A feral scream erupts from my chest as I pull at my hair sharply. I wrench open the back door and seeing red, I run from the house launching myself at James. I flail around and scream like a banshee, clawing at him, begging him to stop. He doesn't speak, nor does he acknowledge me, he just continues to stoke the fire._

_I try to gather any items that he hasn't already burnt, only just resisting the strong desire to thrust my hands into the fire to retrieve the other objects._

_He drags me back from the fire roughly. His arms wrapped around my waist. I struggle against him and a string of obscenities spill forth from behind my lips. I spin in his tight grasp. I feel my fingernails connect with his face and I claw at him until I feel a damp sticky sensation and I see his blood beneath my fingernails._

_Stunned he drops me to my feet, clutching his face in his hands in pain. I clasp one of the partially charred books to my chest and sob as I rock back and forth._

**Here we go...enjoy x**

Chapter 20

I can't recall how long I have been sitting in the kitchen; I don't even remember how I got here. I've also no idea where James has gone. He muttered something to me before he left the room, but I can't remember what he said. His voice was so distant and I couldn't seem to make my ears listen to the words.

He's burnt my things; he's burnt all of my wonderful precious books. The books that I have collected over all of these years, the things which are an extension of me. I wasn't able to rescue a single item in the end. He destroyed them all. They're just a pile of ash. Nothing is left of them.

I have never been so thankful for the fact that I stored the manuscript separately from the ruined items that now lay in the garden. I don't know for certain that the manuscript is safe. All I do know is that I didn't see it burning in the embers. I'll have to check on its fate later, but for now, I haven't even got the energy needed to get my legs to co-operate.

I feel an extreme numbness, yet somehow, I also feel raw, like every nerve is exposed and screaming in pain. My chest burns with every breath, reminiscent of the fire outside. I pull my legs up onto the seat and slowly wrap my arms around them. Resting my forehead on my knees, I breathe shakily. I try desperately to suppress the pain.

I want to hate him intensely. I want to despise him with every inch of my body, but I feel so defeated and drained, I can't muster the mental energy necessary to carry out such a demanding task. I just don't have any fight left in me.

Over the past few weeks, I tried to stand up to him, tried to talk back to him, tried to deceive him by doing whatever I wanted behind his back. _Where did it get me?_ _In the situation I am in now, a mere shell of a person._

The front door slams and I jump, the sound bouncing around the quiet room. I lift my head; I'm so withdrawn I can't be sure if it's someone entering or leaving the house. I strain my ears and hear feet shuffling on the inside of the door. _Where has he been?_

He stalks slowly into the kitchen and stops when he reaches the table, his heels almost clicking together as if he is standing to attention. His hands are clenched tightly into fists and he's breathing heavily through his nose. He slams a hand down on the table loudly and I flinch, my grip tightening on my legs. He takes his hand away and I look at the table, sitting there on the surface staring innocently back at me is the spare key that until this afternoon resided in Edward's possession. _Oh god no. _

My eyes fill with tears as I lift my eyes from the key to look at him. I see deep scratch marks on his cheeks. Blood is smeared all over his face. _Where did he get those scratches? _

I look down at my hands and I'm alarmed to see blood and dirt beneath my fingernails. I look back at his face and then inspect my fingers again. My mouth falls open to form an 'o'. _Oh my god,_ _I did that to him. _

I was in such a rage when I caught him destroying my possessions that I didn't think about my actions. I was transformed into something feral, something so full of anger I simply reacted, unleashing the pain that I felt inside on him.

I keep my face blank and stare at James. My cheeks feel stiff and sticky with the tracks of old tears. I have a strong urge to wash the blood and skin from under my fingernails, just having it there makes me feel nauseated. I sit and turn my attention back to the key, waiting for him to speak.

"I've been to see Edward." His voice is calm and controlled. He has the upper hand and he knows it. I nod my head once, unsure of what to say.

"So quiet Isabella, that's unlike you of late. Don't you have anything to say?" I shake my head slowly. Overwhelmed, I rest my forehead on my knees unable to look at him anymore. I just want him to go away, to leave me alone to regenerate and heal. I long to lie in a lavender scented bath, the warm water soothing my muscles and washing away all of my despair.

"Don't you want to know what I said to him? I assume that's where you were when I came home." He sneers accusatorily at me.

"I had a headache; I went for a walk...alone," I speak, not lifting my head; my voice is muffled by the fabric of my clothes. _And what were you doing home James?_

"Regardless, I know that you must've been meeting with him. He's moving along far too quickly with that orchard to be doing it alone." I hear him step closer to me; I tense my shoulders but keep my head down. I don't want to see it coming.

I feel a hand at the nape of my neck. He roughly tugs on my hair, lifting my head. Using his other hand, he grasps my chin and his face is inches from mine.

"Do me the courtesy of looking at me whilst I speak to you," he utters through gritted teeth. Letting go of my hair and face he takes a step back, standing to his full height, and wiping his hands down the front of his trousers.

"How long have you been buying and collecting all of that useless crap?" He motions towards the garden with his head.

"Years," I mutter under my breath, staring him directly in the eye, as his nostrils flare in anger.

"Pray tell, where did you get the money from for such acquisitions?"

I shrug and look down.

"No you don't, Isabella! We are going to discuss this now. I ask the questions and you answer them. I hope that is understood. Your insolence will have consequences if you keep this up." He towers over me, shaking with rage and pent up aggression.

"I put money aside from the housekeeping monies that you gave me," I offer.

"How long have you had an obsession with..." he pauses closing his eyes, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"With him." He points in the direction of Edward's house.

Not bothering to wait for an answer, he kicks the leg of the chair I am sitting on, so that it flies out from underneath me. I land in an undignified heap on the floor. I fight to stop the sobs, but I choke, tearfully, as I place my hands on the cold stone floor; my hip stings from the shock of landing awkwardly.

"Tell me Isabella, how long have you read his books? Followed his career? Have you fantasized about him? Does he know you're nothing more than a deranged fan? Does he know that you have...had a scrapbook full of press clippings?" I scrabble along the floor away from him as he walks closer to me, taking slow, measured steps.

I shake my head, crying. Clenching my fists at my sides I shut my eyes tightly and open my mouth to scream out loud. A hand clamps over my mouth and my eyes burst open.

"I told him to stay away from you." He smiles smugly and keeps my mouth covered.

"I told him you attacked me." He lets the words sink in.

"I explained that I came home early and found you in the kitchen crying whilst swallowing some pills and that I had to wrestle them from you. I told him that you were having some sort of breakdown and that I thought it would be best if he stayed away." He seems pleased with himself as my tears flow freely now, bursting free from the dam of eyelashes. I taste the saltiness of them as they trickle past his hand and onto my lips.

"I said I would be calling out our family doctor to check you over. He offered the assistance of his father. I told him that wouldn't be necessary, but that if he did want to help, he'd stay away for a while and give you time to recuperate." He slowly peels his hand away from mouth.

"He'll never believe you, James." I speak with conviction despite my shaky voice.

"I don't really care; the seed of doubt has been planted. I also have physical proof that you attacked me." He motions to his face.

"Which, I have to say, I'm not particularly happy about. I have no idea how I am going to explain this to my colleagues. I may have to take a few days holiday and stay around the house with you. I'm sure you'd like that." He snakes a hand up my outer thigh and I try to shake him off; he grips my leg forcefully, his fingers digging in. I whimper, and his grip tightens.

"In addition, Edward very helpfully returned the spare key. We won't have any interruptions from him." He pats my head condescendingly and rises, straightening the chair and setting it back at the table.

"Why did you come home early James?" My voice sounds small in the room.

"I had a break in my schedule and I had some errands to run before I stayed behind to work late." He crosses his arms in front of his chest.

"I also thought my wife might like a visit from her husband to break-up the monotony of her day." He stares straight at me.

"But why were you looking through the spare room? How did you manage to find the things I had hidden?" It's all out there now. I may as well ask the one thing I have wondered since this entire awful event unfolded.

"The how's and why's are not important here. You hid things from me, things you had bought with my hard-earned money. Not to mention that you clearly have an unhealthy obsession with our neighbour." His voice raises a decibel.

"I may not have caught you in the act, but I know you are still meeting up with him. I'm confident of it and let me tell you, it stops now! Or I will tell him all about your little obsessions." He smirks.

"He knows," I whisper.

"He knows you're a fan?" James asks incredulously.

"He knows I read his books and that I am a fan, yes. I don't have any secrets from him."

"Is that right Isabella? No secrets whatsoever?" His eyes narrow.

"Funny. When I mentioned to him that you had previously suffered with depression and almost had a nervous breakdown when your parents died, he didn't seem to know a thing about it." An evil smile spreads across his face.

"You didn't?" I sob, covering my mouth with my hand.

"Oh, I did. He won't want anything to do with you now. Especially considering, I lied and told him that you had once tried to take your own life before, when you were a teenager. You're damaged goods Isabella." He shrugs his shoulders and places his hands in his pockets.

I look down at the ground defeated. I never wanted Edward to know that about me and I certainly didn't want him to hear it from James. Based on the melancholy mood I was in this afternoon and hearing about my medical history, I have an awful feeling that he may believe James' stories about me taking my own life.

"I'm tired of discussing all of this. I need to get back to work. Firstly I need to clean myself up." He wanders to the downstairs bathroom and I can hear the sound of running water.

"You're going back to work?" I call after him. He returns to the room, his face looks much better, there's barely a scratch.

"Yes, I can't bear to look at you at the moment, you're a disgrace. Also, there are things I need to get done. The world doesn't just stop because you have been selfish, Isabella." He barely looks at me as he speaks. Bustling around the kitchen he grabs his car keys, wallet and a bottle of water from the fridge. I watch him from my seat on the floor.

"I hope that this time alone, really makes you think about things. You need to shape up around here. Look at you curled up on the floor. You're pathetic. You don't take enough pride in your appearance; you're clumsy, forgetful and stupid. The reason I don't let you teach is to protect us both from the humiliation! You'd be a failure at it." He steps closer as he continues his insulting tirade.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself? Do you disagree with anything I have said, Isabella?" He looks at me, waiting to counteract any defiance that I might show him.

I shake my head sadly and look down at my hands.

"Speak up. I didn't hear you," he sneers.

"No James, everything you have said is the truth." I sniff loudly and keep my head down.

"Good." He bends and places a kiss to the top of my head.

"I'll be back late tonight, so use your free time wisely to clean this place up." He vacates the kitchen and makes his way out of the house.

I stay seated for a few minutes, just to be sure that he really has gone. I rise onto shaky legs reminiscent of a foal taking their first steps and make my way directly to the sink.

Pumping lots of soap into my hand I put the tap on and wait for it to heat up. Satisfied that the water is painfully hot I immerse my hands in the cascading liquid and grabbing the pot cleaner I scour away at my skin and fingernails. When the skin is red raw and I cannot take anymore I stop and turn off the tap.

Wiping my hands down the front of my shirt, I slowly make my way to the staircase. I need to check that the manuscript is safe.

I wearily make my way upstairs. Pausing at the landing to rest, I catch my reflection in the mirror. An old soul stares back at me; gone is the carefree woman that graced the house this morning. My eyes are dull and empty, framed by red-rimmed lids that have shed far too many tears.

My nose is the same shade of crimson as my eyes. My hair is mussed-up at the back; it looks like a bird's nest. Lifting my left hand and steadying myself on the banister rail with the other, I attempt to pat down my hair. It makes no difference, so I stop my pointless act.

Turning, I look in the doorway of the spare room, the chaos that greets me is shocking. My eyes immediately rest on the large luggage chest; it doesn't appear to have been moved. The book case has been bumped and various books and ornaments lay on the floor. A blue and clear glass paperweight given to me by mother has been knocked to the floor. I bend to retrieve it and notice a sharp edge where a chunk of glass has been removed. I kiss it and place it back on the shelf.

The dictionaries and encyclopaedias that were knocked off the shelves have been trodden on, their delicate dust jackets torn and scuffed. The bed that I hid my items under has been stripped. The linen lies in various heaps around the room, a pillow here, a sheet there. The mattress has been lifted off the bed and thrown against the wall.

My hiding area is completely exposed through the wooden slats that make up the base of the bed. Nothing is left, not one scrap of paper, not one hint that anything was ever stored there.

Before I can move the chest to check on the manuscript, I'm forced to make the bed. I lift the heavy single mattress by the handles on one side and I drag it onto the bed. Shaking out the sheet I lay it out and tuck in the corners. Satisfied that it is crease-free, I finally position the pillows and duvet.

Moving nervously towards the chest, I heave it out of the way and peel back the seemingly untouched carpet. My hands shake as I touch the loose floorboard and pull it free. I have to force myself to look, desperately praying that the manuscript will be staring back at me.

Bracing myself, I take a deep breath and hold it in as I look down. Nestled safely in its spot is the stack of gleaming white paper. I let out a deep breath, puffing out my cheeks and placing a hand on my hammering chest. I am so relieved I could almost cry.

I know it wasn't Edward's only copy, so if James burnt it, it wouldn't have been a disaster. However, if he found it, I don't think that he would destroy it. I think he would use it for something morally wrong, perhaps something that might benefit him financially.

Calmed by the knowledge that the documents are safe, I replace the floorboard and straighten the rest of the room. As the final items are put away on the shelf I hear a knock at the door. I freeze, unsure of what to do. _Who could it be?_ Perhaps if I don't answer it whoever it is will go away.

I hold my breath and wait. They knock again, this time louder and for longer. I walk to the hallway and curl my hands around the banister rail as I wait for the sound of retreating footsteps.

"Bella, are you there? Bella, I really need to talk to you. James came to see me."

I gasp and cover my mouth with my hand. I never for one minute thought Edward would call round. I can't speak to him, I just can't. _I'm not his problem. He's a good man. He shouldn't be expected to have to deal with someone as useless as me._

"Bella please, I need to see that you're ok. Please say something."

I can hear the desperation in his voice and I choke on a sob, slowly I make my way down the stairs. I keep quiet, unsure of what to say or do. I reach the door and rest my forehead against it, placing my palms flat against the hard wood as I splay my fingers out. I feel like I can sense him through the door.

"Oh Bella, please don't think you have to stay away from me. I don't think of you any differently." His voice is pleading, it's as if he can feel the connection and knows that I am nearby.

"Edward..." I find my voice to speak. It's shaky and sounds as though it isn't coming from my lips.

"Bella." His voice is soft, but holds some urgency.

"Edward, I think you should go. I'm fine really." I exhale loudly, speaking again quickly before he has a chance to interject.

"I think it would be a good idea if we stayed away from each other for a while. You really need to concentrate on writing and I have other things that I have neglected since we've become friends. I really think it would be for the best." I shut my eyes and bite my lip to stop myself from crying.

"Bella, where has all this come from? Why are you saying all of this? I don't want to stop seeing you." His voice is thick with emotion.

I pause, unsure of how to answer him.

"I'm no good for you Edward. I'm monopolising your time and I need to remember that I'm a married woman. It's wrong for us to be spending so much time together. Please respect my wishes and just go." I struggle to stand as the words pour from my lips.

"Do you mean all of this Bella? Please just let me see you and tell me this to my face. Then I'll go, I promise," he begs. I wait, not knowing how to answer him.

"Please Bella, I'm begging you. Just let me see you!" I hear shuffling on his side of the door and I can imagine him tugging on his hair in despair.

"OK."

I answer quietly and reach out a hand to slowly unlock the door. I turn the handle and pull open the door; he's there staring back at me. As predicted, his hair is in disarray. He's changed from the clothes he was wearing earlier, so he must've showered. My eyes rake over the fitted black t-shirt and soft well-worn jeans he is sporting.

I lift my head and my eyes connect with his. He deftly crosses the threshold and envelops me in his arms, cradling my head to him. I'm undone. The tears flow and I sob into his chest, my arms clamped to my sides, as he rubs a hand soothingly up and down my back. I breathe in deeply. The soft fabric of his t-shirt smells of detergent mixed with his unique scent. I want to stay here forever, but it's so wrong.

James is right; I am useless; I am a liability. I should protect Edward by staying away from him - I'll only drag him down as well. I fight against Edward and try to move away from him, shrugging from his embrace.

"Shh, it's ok, Bella. Just let it out." His grip tightens as I try to push away. Eventually I wriggle free, swiping at the tears falling down my cheeks.

"Edward you need to go. It's a bad idea for you to be here. Honestly, you're better off without me." I plead with him, clutching my hands to my chest.

"Why are you saying all of this?" He shakes his head confused.

"Because I'm useless. I take up all of your time and I just get in the way. Look at me, I'm such a mess and I'm so clumsy and awkward." I grab fistfuls of my hair and pull at the scalp painfully, whilst I talk through gritted teeth.

I feel his hands on mine, prising my fingers gently from my hair. I look up at him. His eyes are half closed, his lips parted slightly. His face inches closer to mine, I can feel his heavenly breath blowing across my face.

"You're none of those things Bella. You're a strong, intelligent, beautiful woman. You just need to be reminded of it."

I close my eyes wearily, as he speaks with conviction, wanting to believe his words. Suddenly, I feel his soft warm lips brush against mine. His fingers twist into my hair and I collapse into his arms, my hands pressing into his chest, grabbing fistfuls of his t-shirt. His tongue slides past my lips and into my mouth, the kiss intensifies. I forget myself and kiss him back hungrily, moaning gently as I pour myself into the embrace.

His hands leave my hair and trace a trail down my back, coming to rest on my hips, I tingle with pleasure. Pressing my body closer to him, I revel in the heat radiating off of him. I slide my hands up his chest and neck, running my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer greedily.

As quickly as it began, the kiss comes to a stop. My eyes spring open and I stare back at an equally shocked Edward. The entire room is deathly quiet, except for the sound of us both panting heavily.

"I'm so sorry. What was I thinking?" He lets me go and puts some space between us as we stare at each other in a state of shock. _What have we done?_

**A/n: Uh-oh! What next for our pair... please let me know what you think and thanks again to those of you that haven't given up on this story! Sorry for going AWOL. Flubbles x **


	21. Chapter 21

**A/n: ****Hello all, sorry for the delay and to all of you who are asking if I am going to finish this story... YES! I would never leave you all hanging, I hate it when a fic never gets resolved. This chapter was actually finished a few weeks ago, but it was given a massive re-hash and then Christmas parties etc got a bit in the way. So a huge sorry to you all!  
**

**Enjoy! Flubbles xx**

_End of chapter 20..._

_I close my eyes wearily, as he speaks with conviction, wanting to believe his words. Suddenly, I feel his soft warm lips brush against mine. His fingers twist into my hair and I collapse into his arms, my hands pressing into his chest, grabbing fistfuls of his t-shirt. His tongue slides past my lips and into my mouth, the kiss intensifies. I forget myself and kiss him back hungrily, moaning gently as I pour myself into the embrace._

_His hands leave my hair and trace a trail down my back, coming to rest on my hips, I tingle with pleasure. Pressing my body closer to him, I revel in the heat radiating off of him. I slide my hands up his chest and neck, running my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer greedily._

_As quickly as it began, the kiss comes to a stop. My eyes spring open and I stare back at an equally shocked Edward. The entire room is deathly quiet, except for the sound of us both panting heavily._

_"I'm so sorry. What was I thinking?" He lets me go and puts some space between us as we stare at each other in a state of shock. __What have we done?_

**Chapter 21**

Trembling, I trace my index finger along my lips; they're tingling from the intensity of our kiss. I lick my lips tentatively. I can taste him still, sweet and masculine. I clear my throat, unsure of what to say; my mind has never felt so fuzzy. I look at Edward, he's crestfallen. He acknowledges me sadly and pinches the bridge of his nose. Wordlessly he collapses onto the bottom step of the stairs and rests his beautiful head in his hands.

I want to go to him and reassure him that it's ok, that the kiss we just shared has left me feeling more alive than any other moment in my life. I know what happened between us is morally wrong, but it's been so long since a man has touched me and I didn't feel sickened or repelled. I know I should feel awful for kissing him back, but it was wonderful. For the first time, I feel like there is the possibility of a life without James. What does this mean for Edward? For us? Will he want to be something more than just friends? So many questions, I just cannot organise the jumble that has become my thoughts.

My primary aim is to comfort Edward. It's all I can focus on. Managing to persuade my legs to cooperate, I walk awkwardly towards Edward. Extending a hand through the gap in the railings, I place my palm flat on his upper back.

When I initially make contact he flinches and I pause, distressed. I bite my lip to stifle the whimper that threatens to make itself heard. Making an attempt to ignore his obvious discomfort, I leave my hand resting where it is. I eventually feel his shoulders relax and concede. A long deep sigh leaves him and I hear the air force its way through his fingers.

Is it guilt he's feeling, because I'm married and he kissed me? Or does he regret kissing me in the heat of the moment because he doesn't want to risk damaging the friendship we have? I should've known better; I didn't mean to confuse or upset him. Edward is a good man through and through. My initial feelings of hope have evaporated, and doubt is creeping in now that I can see his obvious turmoil. He clearly wishes he could take back what just happened.

It would seem that neither of us knows what to say, as we remain quiet for what feels like an eternity. I decide to take the brave, or perhaps foolish, step of breaking the silence first. I need to offer him an apology. I'm so stupid for thinking so idealistically. He doesn't want to be with me; his body language says it all.

"Edward-" I squeeze his shoulder once before reluctantly removing my hand and continuing.

"I'm so sorry." I wring my hands nervously. Unsure of what to say, it seems like a safe place to begin. He lifts his head slowly and looks at me over his right shoulder. He looks dumbstruck.

"What do you have to apologise for? I should never have kissed you. It was abhorrent and entirely wrong." His voice sounds dejected and quiet. He rises carefully and takes a few steps away from me.

"No, it's completely my fault Edward. Please don't blame yourself, I kissed you back, I should've known better. I shouldn't be so needy. I've been over familiar with you before and you were just reacting to the emotion of the moment." My voice is desperate, pleading with him.

"No!" He shouts. I jump with shock.

It's the first time I've ever heard him raise his voice. I watch him work through his anger, so different to James; a range of emotions flicker across his face. He runs his hands through his hair and takes a few deep breathes to compose himself before speaking.

"I kissed you and I shouldn't have, particularly, with you in your current emotional state Bella. It was one of the most selfish things I have ever done. I won't allow you to take the blame for this." He stares deep into my eyes as he speaks in a determined tone. I can see he's so disappointed with himself.

I shake my head sadly and take a step closer to him. He holds up his hands and takes a step back, clearly indicating for me to stay away. I cover my mouth with my hands as I stifle a sob. _He can't even bear to be near me. What have I done? _

"Please, Edward!" My voice is desperate. I can't lose him. He's my confidant, my rock. _I need him!_

"Please what, Bella? You're married and you're in a difficult place emotionally at the moment. I should never have kissed you. It's inexcusable." He shuffles and looks down at his feet.

"I'm not good for you. I've crossed a line and I shouldn't have. I don't think it's a good idea for me to be around you at the moment. I'm so disappointed with myself." He puts his hands in his jean pockets and shrugs apologetically.

"I don't understand. What exactly are you saying?" With trembling fingers I pull my hair from my face and tuck it behind my ears. It's something to distract me while I wait for his answer. I am terrified that he is about to seal the fate of our relationship.

"I think that we should spend some time apart. All the secrecy surrounding the time we share together isn't doing you any good. I don't want to put any added pressure on you. I took advantage of you in your current situation and that was cruel and selfish." He coughs nervously. My eyes widen as I look at him in disbelief.

"I'll finish the orchard on my own, and when you're feeling better, we will talk again. I'm sorry, but I just can't be around you at the moment, Bella." His face twists in pain as his voice softens and he tries to speak matter-of-factly. I know he thinks he's doing this for my own good. _But he's wrong. _

"Why are you doing this Edward? Is it because you regret kissing me? Do I disgust you?" A single tear falls down my cheek as I look at him through tear-filled eyes.

"No! Never." He whispers, and shakes his head sadly. His voice takes on a sombre tone.

He moves closer to me and places his hand to the side of my face, using the pad of his thumb to wipe away the lone tear that spills over. Relieved I press my face into his palm, closing my eyes. I lift my hand and hold his palm to my face, gently rubbing my fingers over his knuckles. _Bliss._

"I have to stay away, because every time I see you...I'll remember our kiss-" he pauses, his thumb stroking my cheek. His voice cracks and I open my eyes to look at him.

"And even though it's wrong, I'll want to do it again." A sad defeated smile dances around the corners of his mouth. My eyes widen in shock at his admission.

"I'll still be around if you need me, but I just think I am causing problems for both of us by spending so much time with you. I don't know what I want at the moment and the last thing I should be doing is cavorting with a married woman and leading you on." He slips his hand from mine and looks around, as if he is thinking about leaving.

"Can't we just pretend it didn't happen and carry on as we were? James doesn't need to know that we kissed. It wasn't just you Edward, I kissed you back! I'm just as guilty. You really don't need to distance yourself from me." My voice takes on a desperate edge as I struggle with the thought of having to spend less time with him.

"I don't think I can look James in the eye, knowing what I've done. It was wrong and I just need some breathing space, Bella." He speaks with such finality; his mind made up, he turns towards the door. I'm not ready for him to leave yet. He can't end it like this, I reach out a hand desperately.

"I'll leave him for you." My words hang in the air; he turns to look at me. He seems to take forever to answer me. I look at him hopefully.

"I couldn't ask you to do that." He looks astonished.

"I wouldn't mind." I duck my head nervously.

"Bella, I'm not ready to start seeing someone, and I think you are having a difficult time at the moment. You and James have hit a rough-patch; jumping into another relationship with me is the last thing you need. Please don't push me on this." He talks reasonably, putting his case forward, his body language passive, pleading with me to understand and not press him further.

I don't know what else to say. I have offered myself up on a platter to him and he isn't interested. One minute he says he wants to kiss me again and the next he is distancing himself from me. I'm so confused. _Is he just frightened of commitment? Or does he really not know what he wants?_ I don't know either way, but I don't want him to go anywhere. I decide to clutch at straws.

"What about the manuscript?" I ask as he stares at me. He sighs.

"Don't worry about it. Keep it as a souvenir. I'm putting it on hiatus. I'm not as ready to write again as I thought I was." His shoulders slump and he bows his head. He opens the door to the house.

_He's leaving? That's it!_

"Please don't do this, Edward!" I call after him desperately, my voice breaking as I speak.

"I just need some time. Please Bella, it won't be for long." He turns and rests his hands on my shoulders. I feel the weight of him as he pushes down gently. He leans forward and I close my eyes. I feel his lips press gently against my forehead. I gasp and keep my eyes shut tight. A small smile graces my lips.

He pulls away and squeezes my shoulders once with his strong hands, before making his way briskly down the path and disappearing from my view. I'm desperate to follow, but he specifically asked me to give him some space and I want to respect his wishes.

Moments later, I hear the sound of a car engine coming to life. Revving it for good measure, I watch as Edward and his car drive past the house. Naively I lift my hand to wave as he goes by. Our eyes connect as he stares back at me through the rear-view window.

I watch as he mouths the words "I'm sorry."

My eyes fill with tears, as I listen to the drone of the engine fading into the distance.

I lower my hand and clutch the front door, using the strong wood to keep me upright as I feel myself becoming lightheaded and faint. A sweat breaks out on my forehead and the palms of my hands, despite the fact my fingers feel icy cold. I feel physically sick with the shock of what has just happened between us.

I dash to the bathroom and pulling my hair from my face, I clutch it at the nape of my neck. Leaning over the toilet, I relieve my body of our once idyllic lunch. It now feels like a curdled poison in my stomach.

With quivering hands I turn on the tap and fill the basin with cold water. I splash the ice cold liquid on my face and rinse my mouth out. I close my eyes gripping the porcelain of the sink and rest my burning forehead on the pleasantly cool mirror. So many thoughts are whirling around my head; I'm struggling to process them.

Edward kissed me and although he regrets it for reasons of a moral nature, he enjoyed it. _And mentioned that he desired to do it again..._

I enjoyed it too. But now Edward has gone. Where does that leave me?

I offered myself to him and he turned me down. He doesn't want me. Maybe he truly believes he doesn't deserve another relationship after Tanya. He told me as much, but I hadn't believed him. Maybe he won't ever allow himself to love again. He didn't even entertain the thought that the two of us could embark upon a relationship together. If I had his full support I would be able to leave James. If I had the reassurance of knowing that Edward would look after me, I could leave. _Couldn't I?_

It's irrelevant now. He's probably just trying to be nice when he says he'll still be around and that I can go to him.

I shake my head and grit my teeth. Thinking like this isn't going to help me at all. I take a deep breath and conclude that my only option is to wait and see. Over the years I have perfected the necessary skills to become an incredibly patient person. I just have to let Edward work through his emotions and in the meantime keep our romantic tryst a secret from James.

Edward will come back to me when he has had time to think all of this through, I'm sure of it. I berate myself for thinking so poorly of him. Whether it's as a friend or something more, I'll take whatever I can get. I just hope he doesn't stay away too long. Perhaps he just went for a drive to clear his head. If so, I could try going to see him tomorrow.

I open my eyes and push away from the basin, I feel marginally better now that I have developed some form of a plan. It may be as simple as just biding my time, but at least that gives me something to focus on. I am probably completely delusional to cling on to an imaginary glimmer of hope, but it's all I have at the moment.

X-X-X-X-X

The sound of rushing water coming from the old clunky bath taps is almost deafening as it cascades into the cast iron bath. Soap bubbles form on the surface and swirl around as the water level rises. The strong clean scent of lavender wafts around, filling the upper floor of the house.

Realising I don't have a fresh bath towel, I make my way downstairs to collect one from the laundry room. Immediately upon entering the room a strong smell of smoke assaults my nostrils. I notice James' suit jacket lying on top of the washing machine. It was the one he was wearing earlier. I'm sure it's dry clean only, but the least I could do is air it in the garden. As I lift it up a slip of paper falls from one of the pockets.

I don't immediately recognise the document , but I'm eager to see if it is something that managed to survive this afternoon's events. I drop the jacket absently, all concerns to rid it of the acrid smell forgotten as I greedily snatch up the piece of paper. I stand to my full height as I look at the well-worn folded sheet of paper.

It's thick, and as I begin to unfold it, I realise there is more than one sheet of paper. It looks quite old as the once white paper is now a grubby shade of grey. The folds are well worn as though it has been opened and re-folded again and again. Smudged inky fingerprints are dotted over the paper.

Flattening the sheets out I realise that it is a bank statement, but not from an account of mine or even one that is familiar to me. Looking at the header on the first page, I see it is a joint bank account in both mine and James' names. I knew we had a shared account for our utilities, but I didn't think it was with this bank. The statement is a month old, which doesn't really explain why it looks so dog-eared. I assume James doesn't have a central place to store it and was carrying it in his pocket.

My eyes scan the document, trying to understand what is transpiring within the account. I hold my breath as I come to rest on the summary of the statement, in particular the end balance of the account: £246,995. I feel the blood pounding in my ears; the light-headed feeling of earlier comes rushing back to me. Suddenly the room feels too small, as if there isn't enough air. My breath comes in ragged gasps while my head swims in confusion. _£246,995!_ _Where has all this money come from? This could pay off our mortgage easily. Why is it just in a bank account?_

The rushing sound of water coming from the floor above shatters my mental barrage of questions. Clutching the papers to my chest, I stagger awkwardly up the stairs and to the bathroom to turn off the taps. I sit on the edge of the bath and grip the papers tightly, staring at the figures trying to make sense of them; it's like the numbers are floating around the page. I close my eyes and shake my head, when I open them the numbers have obediently returned to their allotted spaces. I begin looking through the statement to get an understanding of the transactions.

The statement covers the dates of James' recent work trip and a number of transactions jump out at me. A booking at the Dorchester Hotel; it would seem that a 2 night stay in the Belgravia Suite is a mere snip at £3,100. Surely James' employer would pay for his stay in a hotel? Also he was away for a lot longer than 2 nights. Where did he stay the rest of the time?

It becomes clear as to why he didn't want me to have a contact number.

There is also a hefty direct debit for a mobile phone provider, which means the phone he has isn't a work mobile.

I begin to feel sick as I follow the trail of breadcrumbs that this statement provides. It seems to be pointing strongly in the direction of my husband leading a double-life.

I cover my mouth in shock as I trawl through the other transactions: huge sums of money spent at Agent Provocateur; endless meals out with bills that are far too high for there to be only one dining party; numerous Interflora transactions; and other department stores where I cannot guess what could possibly have been purchased. _He's seeing another woman! _

I'm filled with despair and rage. I want to destroy the pieces of paper in front of me so that I can release some of my aggression, but I cannot destroy the evidence. _Where did the rotten snake get this money from?_ _How can he stand in front of me and plead poverty?_ _The rat! _

The phone rings and I jump, almost dropping the papers in the bath water. I clasp them to my chest and run to the bedroom to answer the phone. I lift the receiver and answer, trying not to sound out of breath.

"Hello."

"Isabella, it's James. Did I leave my suit jacket at home?" He sounds confident and completely unruffled.

"Umm...no, I don't think so. Perhaps it's in the car?" I try to mask my voice with innocence and place my spare hand on my hammering chest.

"Yes, you're probably right. If you do find it just put it to one side and I'll sort it out when I get home." He sounds distracted.

"Ok. So I'll see you tonight?" I grip the phone tightly, scowling at the documents in my hand.

"Of course. I'll be back late again. The little incident at home this afternoon has put me behind somewhat." I can hear the venom in his voice. He hangs up, not even so much as a goodbye. I replace the receiver, and sit on the edge of the bed.

My eyes fall on the top of the statement and I see the phone number of the bank. My hand hovers over the telephone and I take a deep breath before grabbing the receiver and dialling the number. I listen to the recorded message asking me to select an option, I choose 'current accounts'.

I'm then required to enter the account number. I enter the digits from the paper in front of me and listen as the associated tones beep back at me. I then enter the sort code and my date of birth. All seems to be going swimmingly so far.

I'm played some interesting music whilst I wait in a queue for an advisor. Finally the line clicks and I hear a real person speak on the other end.

"Hello? Yes I'd like some information about a joint account I hold with you," I ask politely, hoping that if I appear reasonable the advisor may be more forthcoming.

"Certainly Mrs Smith, I have the account details in front of me now. Please can you confirm the security passphrase on the account?" The colour drains from my face as I realise that I don't have any idea what the passphrase could be. I make a guess at James' mother's maiden name.

"I think it is Robertson. However my husband manages the account really." I explain unnecessarily.

"I'm afraid that isn't the correct phrase Mrs Smith. Would you like to try again?" Her voice takes on a patronising edge. I clutch at straws and decide to guess again.

"Yes please, could you try Swan?" I ask helplessly.

"I'm afraid not Mrs Smith. Passphrases must be a minimum of 6 characters. Perhaps you could call your husband and ask him for the passphrase?" I can almost imagine her shaking her head disparagingly.

"That's not possible. Aren't there any other questions I can answer? Address? Date of Birth? Please, anything. What if my husband has forgotten the passphrase? What then?" I ask desperately.

"I'm afraid that is our only security question. If your husband has forgotten the passphrase we can send a new code out in the post, which would require us to temporarily suspend his online banking until he has a chance to re-register online. Shall I arrange the necessary paperwork to get the account reset Mrs Smith?" She sounds bored.

"No, no, please don't do that!" I panic and cannot answer quickly enough.

"Please all I want to know is when the account was opened and to query a deposit. Can't you tell me that at least? I understand the security is there for a reason, but can't you just tell me these two things?" I beg and plead with the zombie on the other end of the phone. If I can just find out where the money came from and the full amount, surely that would be something.

"Mrs. Smith, please can I remind you that all our calls are recorded and I am not willing to breach our security procedure." I balk at the stock phrases she keeps spouting in my direction.

"Look, all I want to know is when the account was opened. Can't you do anything?" I feel myself getting exasperated.

"Mrs Smith, I am going to have to ask you to phone back when you have the passphrase. Without it I am unable to help you further." I sigh defeated.

"Fine. Thank you for your time." I acquiesce and resign myself to the fact that I'm not going to gain any information.

"Not a problem Mrs Smith. Is there anything else I can help you with today?" I shake my head at the irony.

"No, that'll be all." I hang up the phone, not bothering to wait for a response. I place my head in my hands as the tears of confusion and frustration fall.

**A/n: ****Poor Bella! Not long left of this journey now! Check out this interview I did with the wonderful LaMs_Rob_Le http : / / tinyurl . com / 233vf5g and please leave me a review if you see fit.**

**Merry Christmas to you all!**

**Flubbles x**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/n: Hello all! Sorry for the absence, without further ado here is the long-awaited next chapter. There are some difficult subjects covered in this chapter, so this is a warning to anyone of a delicate nature.  
Flubbles xxxx**

Chapter 22

I pull the plug out of the hole, the tepid untouched water gurgles as it descends in a downward spiral. I walk from the room, stopping in the doorway to tug the pull chord that turns off the light and extractor fan, shrouding the room in darkness and a heavy silence.

I wander round the first floor of the house in a daze. It's late afternoon and although it's still light, I close curtains, turn down the bedcovers. I travel from room to room, preparing the house for the night, battening down the hatches and closing myself off to the outside world.

I complete all of these tasks on autopilot, my hands moving of their own volition, busying themselves with chores they have completed thousands of times before. My head is buzzing with questions and theories involving James, whilst attempting to prioritise my dark emotions in order of importance. _Should unimaginable rage rank before misery and feelings of stupidity?_

I find it impossible to think of anything other than my newly discovered information. The bank account and all of the money it contains is enough of a conundrum. However, the obvious gifts for some harlot add insult to injury. How long has this been going on? How long has he been pulling the wool over my eyes? I have naively been struggling to make meals from cheap cuts, stretching a chicken for days because I was under the illusion that money was tight.

I look down at the thin dress and cardigan I'm modelling; I can't remember when I actually bought some new clothes. These certainly aren't this season. I have also knitted many a jumper and darned worn elbows and patched items. I don't even want to think about shoes and other accessories; I finger my mother's pendant as I mull all of this over. _Certainly no new expensive lingerie for me!_

I've been such an idiot, blindly overlooking James' longer 'working' hours because I was grateful for the extra time it granted me, time that I could spend with Edward. Any feelings of guilt I harboured about the brief embrace I shared with Edward have dissipated now. My small misdemeanour is nothing in comparison. I never ever have considered that he might be having an affair. It never occurred to me that another woman would desire him.

Looking back now all of the signs were there. He's never travelled with work before, or been requested to work longer hours. Even now I don't know what time he will return home. This irks me further.

I am so sick of feeling clueless and overlooked in this marriage. I live my life like clockwork, bound in a routine and now weighed down by a farce of a matrimonial union and this damn prison of a house. This pile of bricks and mortar that I once took pride in, I have now come to despise.

With its hard stony unforgiving floors that I tirelessly scrub, windows that are always gleaming and pristine rooms that I thanklessly clean, it's a millstone around my neck. In the past I have carried out all of these tasks with vigour, while he has masqueraded as a conscientious hard-working man. When in all truth he has been gallivanting around wooing and dining another woman... _or women for all I know._

Anger courses through me, making every nerve feel as though it is set on edge. I almost vibrate with disgust as I mull over the sheer unfairness of my predicament. I feel so helpless. I wish Edward were around to talk with me. I could use a friend_. _My cheeks flush as I think of him; my dark mood mellows marginally.

I find myself in the front room and I come to sit on the sofa. I wrap my arms around my knees and stare into space. I have been so engrossed in my thoughts that I don't even remember entering the room. I try to think rationally about the money and where it came from. As I stare across at the telephone and the table it sits atop, a strange feeling of déjà vu washes over me and I shiver. A striking realisation hits me and I cast my mind back to when James was away for work; I was in this very room when he called me, the woman in the background..._Victoria?_

The penny drops. _How can I have been so stupid! _He said she was a colleague, which may be a lie. She could've been a high-class escort for all I know. Without a surname I don't have much to go on, however, the company he works for is a small organization. How many women called Victoria could he possibly work with? I'm sure if I heard her voice again I'd be able to tell if it was Victoria in the hotel room that night.

I rise from the sofa and walk slowly towards the phone. My shaking hand reaches out and I lift the receiver, putting it to my ear. The dial-tone resonates around my whole head, giving it a feeling of hollowness. My hand hovers above the keypad as I wrestle with what I am about to do. Part of me longs for an explanation or some information to help me piece the puzzle together. It's the least I deserve.

Another part of me is tempted to turn a blind eye and bury my head in the sand, pretending that all is well in the world and this situation will somehow resolve itself of its own accord. This is wishful thinking of the highest level, though.

Without Edward to run to, I think of my Mother and wonder what she'd do in a situation like this. I decide that she would try and find out as much as she possibly could, even if my Father would disapprove. With renewed vigour I dial the number for James' workplace. The call connects and there is a grand total of three rings before the call is efficiently answered.

"Good Afternoon, Meyer Plastics Ltd. How may I help you?" The clipped voice enquires.

I clear my throat before proceeding.

"Yes, hello. Could you put me through to Victoria please?" I try and inject some authority into my voice, hoping that I sound confident and no nonsense.

"Certainly, may I ask who's calling?" _Oh Crap! _

I wrack my brain thinking of a possible pseudonym I could use. Suddenly it comes to me, one of Edward's initials that no one would ever guess, least of all James.

"Yes, it's Ms. Masen calling about an account we hold with you." I try to sound disinterested.

"Certainly, I'll just put you through now."

The line clicks and I breathe a sigh of relief. I hear ringing for what seems like an eternity; I count at least ten rings.

"Hello, Victoria's phone. How can I help you?" I'm caught unawares and I try to think on my feet.

"Oh is Victoria not around?" I ask innocently.

"I'm afraid not, she's been in a meeting all afternoon." I can only assume this is her colleague.

"Oh not to worry, perhaps you could put me through to James Smith instead? I'm sure he could help me in her absence." I try to make my tone light and flippant, intending to hang up the moment she connects my call to James.

"I'm afraid I can't do that either. James is assisting her in the meeting and neither of them is expected back in the office today. Can I help at all?" My mouth falls open in shock.

"Assisting?" I clamp my hand over my mouth as I realise I spoke aloud.

"Yes, James is Victoria's personal assistant." I almost drop the phone in shock. I try to compose myself and gather my thoughts.

"Oh, I didn't realise. I'm sorry." I curse under my breath, desperately trying not to jeopardise this and give myself away.

"Well, can I take a message or help at all?" The woman sounds as though she is becoming irritated.

"Umm, no, that won't be necessary, I'll call back another time. Thank you for your help." I hurriedly hang up the phone almost dropping it as if it's bitten me, reeling at this new found information.

Victoria is James' boss... James is not a salesman...Well today really is a day for surprises!

I lean back against the sofa and close my eyes resting my head on the back and exhaling deeply. I shrink into the soft cushions; I feel besieged by all of the information that has bombarded me today. Not to mention the huge web of lies that seems to be suffocating me. Working late? _Pfft!_

James is clearly overindulging with his new lady friend, wooing the boss with money that I assume belongs to both of us.

In truth I don't know where the money could have come from. Phoning the bank didn't shed any light. Perhaps I could visit the bank. If I went in with ID they'd have to give me more information – wouldn't they?

The account is in both our names, they would have to tell me. I shake my fist in a show of strength and resolve to head to the bank by bus tomorrow. I reach into the pocket on my dress and take out the bank statement. I read the sort code and account number over and over again, desperately trying to memorise the details.

I go to the laundry room and tuck the statement back into James coat, trying to make it look untouched. I don't know exactly what I am going to do about it all, but I will get some answers.

X-X-X-X-X

The sound of a car distracts me from the low hum of the television. I wasn't even really watching the programme playing out on the screen. I just like the noise and light glowing from the set; it creates the illusion that the house is less empty than it actually is. I leave it on out of habit most of the time.

I strain my ears. It's not James' car, I would recognise that sound anywhere. Excitedly I hope that it might be Edward. I peel back the tartan blanket that covers my legs and rise from the sofa, padding across the floor to the window to get a closer look.

I gawp out the window and at first I struggle to see anything, my eyes finding it difficult to adjust to the dark outside and the reflective glare of the glass. I look towards Edward's driveway and notice that his car hasn't returned; sadness washes over me and my shoulders slump. I turn my head in the direction of the car I can hear, hoping that perhaps this may be Edward.

Straining on my tip-toes and butting my forehead right up against the window I narrow my eyes. I can just make out the profile of a car I don't recognise and a man standing next to it. I watch as he leans into the driver's side window. His head and shoulders are obscured, but as I stare harder I realise it's James. I'd know that silhouette anywhere.

The overhead interior light of the car is switched on and I can see the fuzzy outline of a woman I don't recognise either; she has a shock of unruly red curly hair. Her face is upturned towards James and my mouth falls open in shock as I realise that they are kissing passionately. Her hands are tugging at his hair as they cling on to each other greedily.

I clench my fists, the nails of my fingers pressing into my palm as I set my jaw and grind my teeth angrily. I feel bile rise in my throat as I watch my husband kissing another woman shamelessly outside of our house.

I want to stop watching them, but I can't tear my eyes away from the car crash playing out in front of me. They pull apart, but he keeps a hand in her hair. It's cold outside and I can see their hurried breath billowing out in puffs of smoke in the cold air. I twist my waist to get a closer look, and I watch disgusted as he tilts her chin with his hand and kisses her once tenderly on the lips, before laughing at something she says and stepping away from the car. Waving a hearty goodbye he turns and makes his way towards the house.

I feel my blood boil at his bare-faced cheek. An anger I didn't know I was capable of bubbles up in the pit of my stomach. I flick the light off in the front room, shrouding the entire downstairs in darkness. I dash to the kitchen and sit at the table in the dark, waiting for him to enter the house. I want to catch him off guard for once.

I breathe heavily through my nose trying to calm my increasing rage at the sheer injustice of the position I find myself in. My heart is pumping and the blood feels as though it pounding in my ears. I count in my head as I wait for the sound of his footsteps on the path and his key in the door. I hear the gravel crunch beneath his feet as his key scratches around the keyhole until it finally makes contact. The door flings open and a whoosh of cold air rushes through the house and dances around my ankles; I shiver as my feet burrow further into their fluffy slippers.

The door closes loudly and I hear him mutter "Oops". I listen as he shuffles out of his shoes and coat, both dropping to the floor in a thud. His feet drag as he wanders to the kitchen, as I suspected; he's tipsy and he's going to come straight into the kitchen for food or a beer.

He doesn't bother with the light in the room, instead going straight to the fridge and using the light from that. I watch his hand reach for a plate of cooked chicken; he peels back the cling-film and grabs a chicken leg. I take this opportunity to make my presence known.

"How long has it been going on?" I rise from behind the table, my voice a ghostly whisper as the chair scrapes piercingly on the hard stone floor.

I get the desired effect, he jumps hitting his head on the fridge. The plate that holds the chicken falls to the ground and breaks noisily into a number of large shards. He turns in my direction and curses loudly.

"Shit, Isabella! Don't creep up on me like that. Look what you made me do. Clean this up."

He rubs the back of his head and bends to retrieve a piece of chicken from the floor. He dusts it off unnecessarily – as if my floor would be dirty - and begins to eat. I feel nauseous as I watch him biting into the cooked flesh, navigating his way around the bones. He motions at the mess on the floor with his free hand, and speaking with a mouthful of food he addresses me.

"Chop, chop Isabella. It won't clean itself up will it?" He adds in a patronising tone. I ignore him and ask again.

"I asked you a question, how long has it been going on?" I stay where I am, keeping the table between us to act as some form of protection, a barrier of sorts.

"How long has what been going on? You're making even less sense than usual. And why are you sitting in the dark?" He moves to the left, around the spilt food and flips the light switch on. My eyelids scrunch together as I try to adjust to the sudden injection of light.

"I was waiting for you to finish saying goodbye." I answer sarcastically, arching an eyebrow and waiting for his reaction.

He fidgets minutely and continues to eat the chicken like he's buying himself some thinking time.

"I saw you with her James. You're having an affair aren't you?" I raise my head and jut out my jaw, trying to look strong and determined as I continue.

"You haven't been working late at all. You're cheating on me with your boss." I watch him. He flinches at my words and a brief look of shock flits across his face. He takes a step closer to me and I gulp loudly.

"So what if I am? You're a pathetic excuse for a woman. I have to get my kicks somewhere." He sneers at me; a cruel grin spreads across his face as he shrugs nonchalantly.

"She's twice the woman you'll ever be. She's sexy, confident, attractive and much more capable than you are." He spits at my feet and throws the chicken bone at me. It hits me on the upper arm and falls to the floor quietly.

Anger flows through me, leaving me buzzing. I feel as though my hair has been statically charged and every nerve in my body is vibrating with rage at the way he has addressed me.

"If I'm that bad, leave me for her. Divorce me, leave me the house and go and live with her. I'd be happier without you in my life." I grit my teeth and point in the direction of the doorway. I continue to speak.

"I despise you." I narrow my eyes and glare at him, waiting for a response, expecting my defiance to shock him.

"Why would I do that? I have the best of both worlds. A powerful, competent woman who can't get enough of me, and then there's you, a timid little mouse of a girl that keeps this place clean and provides services that are beneath my darling Victoria." He smiles smugly at me, crossing his arms and leaning against the worktop.

"I don't want to be your wife any longer! If you won't leave me, then I'll leave you." I watch the smile fall from his face; he no longer looks amused.

I move from behind the table and make a run for the hallway. His hand darts out and clamps around my hair, pulling me back roughly. I scream loudly as my hands claw at his, desperately trying to prise his fingers from my hair. I feel as though he is pulling it out from the roots one by one.

"Get off of me you pig." I struggle against him, kicking out at him. His other arm wraps round my waist and he wrestles me to the ground. I land awkwardly unable to put my hands out to break my fall as pain shoots through my forearms when my elbows hit the ground.

I groan in agony as I feel the weight of him lying on top of me, his hot breath landing on the back of my neck. He pins me down with his body and grips my hair tighter pushing the side of my face into the floor. He leans in close and speaks to me through gritted teeth.

"You're not going anywhere, Isabella. You're mine and I'm going to have to remind you of that it seems." His free hand pulls at the buttons on the top of my dress, the fabric tears loudly, the buttons fly across the floor, clattering as they connect with the ground. With my bra exposed he begins to palm my breasts. I feel helpless as fat tears fall down the apples of my cheek; I struggle to get his hands off me.

Pulling my hair sharply he exposes my neck, twisting it painfully, his hand slides down my body. He wrestles with my skirt and lifts it up my thighs, exposing my undergarments. I feel like a spectator as his hands rip away at the fabric, unable to do anything to stop him. I buck violently and whimper in shock as I feel his fingers dart beneath my knickers trying to rip at the barrier between us. I start desperately trying to push him off me.

I put all of my energy into struggling free of him, shoving and bucking up against him. I try to overpower the bulk of his weight that presses down on me, clamping me in position. I choke on a cry when I feel his erection pressing between my inner thighs.

"Get off me, please! I'm begging you." Tears fall down my face and blur my vision as I feel my fate being sealed.

"Don't worry Isabella, it'll only hurt a bit. I've always wanted to do you here." I feel his hand try to slip between my buttocks as I clench the muscles and clamp my legs together. _Oh god no, please not that!_

I hear him opening his zip and his weight on me lessens temporarily as he is distracted. I seize my moment and swing my left arm back for a final attempt at escaping. Thankfully the gods are looking down on me and somehow my elbow connects with his face.

A searing pain shoots through my arm causing me to grunt and bite down on my lip. I hear James scream out in pain as his hands come up to cover his face. I scramble around panicked, dragging myself from beneath him, and coming up onto my feet I dash to the front door.

"You bitch, you broke my nose." I look over my shoulder to see James clutching his face as blood drips down his shirt. In my haste I don't notice the coat and shoes lying in the hallway, my slippers slide on the lining of the coat and my legs fly out from underneath me. I land painfully on my coccyx and moan wearily as my hand comes round to massage my lower back.

I see James begin to rise and stagger towards me. I clamber to my feet and reach out for the front door. Flipping the handle, I yank open the door so forcefully it slams back on its hinges and makes a clattering sound as it hits the wall. I rush out into the night, James still pursuing me. The cold air swirls around my exposed flesh, my dress hangs open at the front and I clutch the fabric together with one hand. The tear tracks that stain my cheeks are dried in the biting cold air, making my skin feel raw. My hair catches in the wind, it's wild and knotted together, bunched at my neck.

My eyes dart around anxiously, wondering where to go; normally I would have gone straight to Edward's. I feel as if I'm running in a fog, unable to think clearly. Just as I begin to give up hope that my fate might actually be sealed, I see the familiar headlights of Edward's car returning home and lighting up our entire garden. I clutch my chest in sheer relief and almost fall to the ground tripping over my own feet as I stagger forward in the direction of his car.

"Edward!" His name forms part of a blood curdling scream as I manage to make my way through the garden. I look round and see James standing in the doorway staring at me. He staggers forward pinching the bridge of his nose, and starts running towards me.

Edward parks the car awkwardly and sprints over to me. Seeing him gives me new strength and I start running towards him. I smack right into his chest, wrapping my arms around him. His hand comes up to stroke my hair and I can hear him whispering my name in my ear. He sounds so far away.

"Isabella, get back here!" roars James.

His voices strikes fear in me and I start shaking. I grab the lapels of Edward's jacket and look up at him, my eyes widening in fear. Edward freezes. I turn my head first to look at James and then I look up at Edward. His jaw is set like stone and there is a cold hard look in his eyes, his mouth is twisted in a look of disgust. He grabs me by my arm, pulling me in the direction of his house. No words are needed, I'm sure he can see the fear and desperation in my face.

We run along his path. Edward half carries, and half drags me, practically taking all of my weight as my feet barely touch the ground. He fumbles with the key letting us into his house as I press myself into his back. I stupidly look over my shoulder. James is watching us intently. He's panting with anger; his hands are clenched into tight fists. My eyes connect with his and I cannot look away.

Edward gets the door unlocked and pulls me into the house, prising my eyes away and breaking the spell. It's not until I hear the door slam behind me and the sound of the lock falling into place that I start to breathe again. I feel light-headed and nauseous; the room around me spins. As I begin to feel myself fall, expecting to meet the cold hard ground, a pair of strong arms wrap around me.

I look up to meet Edward's concerned eyes staring down at me. His hand reaches out to stroke the hair from my forehead then rests on my cheek. He bends his head and places one chaste kiss on my forehead before tucking my head into his chest. I hear him sigh making him seem calm, but the sound of his heart beating rapidly betrays him as adrenaline courses through his body. I want to speak, but fear paralyses me and I can't form any words.

"Oh my darling Bella, it's ok, I've got you now." He mutters into my hair, rocking us back and forth soothingly.

**A/n: If you think I deserve one, please leave a review. Thanks all. xxx **


	23. Chapter 23

**A/n: Hi All – Yes it really is an update already! I know I'm shocked too! Thank you so much for the overwhelmingly positive response to the last chapter. I was a bit anxious about some of the subject matter, so you don't know how pleased it made me when some of you said it was possibly my best chapter ever! It's fantastic to know that my writing is improving with each chapter. Your reviews and comments are a great help to me.**

**So as ever I would like to thank EMCxo and Jaustenlover for their fantastic "bee-tah" ****skills, for weeding out my common errors, generally keeping my story on track and for being continuity Queens!**

**Well I think it's time for some more Bella and Edward action. There are some tough subjects covered in this chapter with references to rape and abuse. So anybody of a delicate nature may want to stop reading now. **

**As ever all characters belong to Stephanie Meyer.**

**Enjoy!  
Flubbles xx**

Chapter 23

My knuckles are white due to the ferocity with which I grip Edward's shirt; I can't seem to let go, clinging to him for safety in the dark unlit house. My breathing is hurried and raggedy, I try to calm myself; his strong arms offer some comfort. His grip is tight, he too holds on to fistfuls of my clothing. I welcome the warmth radiating from his body.

I feel his breathe brush past my ear, tickling my hair as I rest my forehead on his chest. He mutters soothing words, promising me that everything will be ok, that he has me now and won't let anything bad happen to me. The sweet words are uttered between small hurried kisses that he places to the top of my head. I try my best to be calmed by them, but too much adrenaline courses through me.

Slowly he releases the fabric he is clutching. My ripped dress falls loosely on my shoulders. His hands travel up my back, over my shoulders, and rest gently cupping either side of my head, fingers spreading out into the mess of my tangled hair.

His warm touch feels so good on my scalp as the gentle pressure numbs the impending headache. He pulls back marginally and looks down into my eyes, which are brimming with tears. He is almost completely blurred; I can just make out his features. He places a firm kiss on my forehead and then pulls me to him in a bone-crushing hug.

"Bella, I-I don't know exactly what just happened..." His voice is choked and thick with emotion as he speaks slowly.

"But I need you to know, the only thing stopping me from going round there and ripping that bastard's throat out... is the fact that you need me more here." He begins the sentence with gritted teeth, almost vibrating with anger, but as his focus turns to me, his voice takes on a delicate tenderness.

I open my mouth to speak, but I find myself making a whimpering sound as a fresh round of tears burst forth. I choke with emotion; my shoulders shake as a wave of sorrow passes over me. I'm overcome with relief that I managed to escape from James, however the sheer disgust I feel just thinking about what he tried to do is too much for me. I cry and shake uncontrollably, engulfed in shock.

"Bella, I am so... so very sorry I left." He squeezes me tighter, agonizing over each word.

"I should never have turned my back on you like I did. Running away wasn't going to solve anything." I feel him shake his head; his voice is muffled by my hair.

"God, if I hadn't got here when I did! I-I don't even want to think about it!" He chokes gently, speaking as if a lump is forming in his throat. He presses his face into my neck. I feel his shoulders shake.

"What was I thinking, my sweet, sweet Bella." He takes a deep breath and strokes the back of my head tenderly. I cannot form any words at his heartfelt admission.

I feel myself go limp in Edward's arms, my heading is pound and I feel sick with nervous energy. He places an arm around my back and another under my legs, behind my knees, effectively scooping me up into his arms. I press myself into him sobbing and spluttering as he carries me into the kitchen and deposits me on an empty chair. He gives my shoulders a gentle squeeze and mutters something about being right back. I can just make out his form from the moonlight streaming in through the window.

He turns on a small lamp, which bathes the room in a soft glow. As I watch him leave the room, I feel the panic begin to bubble in my stomach and rise in my chest. My body tenses and I clasp my hands together tightly, interlinking the fingers and bringing them up to rest on my lips as I watch the doorway intently, desperate for his return.

When I see him walk back towards the room, I feel myself calm a little and my tensed shoulders fall. He's carrying a crocheted blanket under one arm and a bottle of whiskey and two glasses in his hand. I observe his every move, saying nothing, my unblinking eyes following his hands.

He sets down the glasses and bottle on the table with a familiar thud and then unfolds the blanket. He tucks it around my shoulders, pulling it tight at the front. Standing behind me, he gently prises my hair out from under the blanket, letting it cascade down my back. He skilfully uses his fingers to comb out some of the tangles that have formed. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, warmed by the blanket and the tender gesture. He moves around the table and takes a seat at the end, to the left of me. As he moves his chair closer, our knees are almost touching.

"I know you normally find tea calming, but I think on this occasion, we both need something a little stronger." He smiles wryly at me as he unscrews the bottle. The recognizable sound of the metal cap on the glass thread resonates through the deathly quiet room.

The bottle clinks as the neck connects with the rim of the crystal whiskey tumblers; the golden liquid tumbles into the glass. I notice Edward leaves the lid off the bottle, he then lifts my right hand from beneath the blanket and places a partially filled tumbler in my hand.

"Drink."

Is the only word of instruction he offers as he points at my glass and nods his head in my direction, before reaching for his own and chucking back the fiery liquid. He shakes his head, making a funny coughing, growling sound at the shock of the alcohol. He pours himself another substantial measure, but instead of knocking this one back in the same way, he just clutches it, swirling the liquid round whilst watching me.

I look down at the glass in my hand. It feels heavy. My hand shakes as I lift the glass closer to my lips; the pungent peaty smell burns my nostrils. I take a small sip. The liquid warms me as it slides down my throat. The heat spreads throughout my body and what was initially unpleasant now provides a soothing numbness, before fading away to nothing but a small fire in my belly.

Desperate to experience the warm sensation again I take one large gulp after another. Before I realise it I have drained my glass and I feel a touch calmer. I look to Edward. As if knowing what I'm asking, he silently tops up my glass.

I take a small sip and like him, I show more restraint this time, placing my glass on the table. I wrap my fingers around the tumbler and stare down at the antique well-worn wood of the table. I don't think a coaster has ever been used on this table. It gives the impression of a well-used, well-loved piece of furniture. Nothing like the pristine, polished veneer of the table I wipe down daily. I stroke the table with my hand; the bumpy wood feels solid and dependable beneath my palm. _I would rather have this tired looking table any day. _

"Bella, we don't have to talk about it now if you don't want to, but at some point you're going to have to tell me about what happened between you and James this evening." His voice breaks through my thoughts as his hand comes to rest on my knee.

I'm not expecting the contact from him and something inside me snaps. James' rough treatment earlier has really taken its toll on me. I flinch exaggeratedly and recoil from Edward, pushing my chair away from the table harshly, accidentally knocking the full glass to the floor.

The delicate material smashes the instant it makes contact with the ground, crystal and whiskey scatter over the floor. Instinctively I drop to my knees to make a start on cleaning the mess, feeling so stupid and clumsy in front of him.

"Bella, leave it! I'll get a dust-pan and brush." He disappears into the utility room. I ignore his instruction and begin to make a start on cleaning up the larger pieces.

"Please Bella, I said leave it! You'll hurt yourself. It's only a bloody glass. It doesn't matter." His tone is exasperated and I'm shocked at how distressed he sounds. I find myself crying again, I don't even realise it until the tears land on the stone floor like raindrops.

"Please don't be angry, Edward. I couldn't take it if I disappointed you." My voice is quiet as I kneel on the floor.

"Disappointed, with you?" He bends, so that he is at the same level as me. He lets the dustpan and brush he is holding clatter to the floor and tucks my hair behind my ears. He lifts my chin with his finger so I am forced to look at him.

"I'm not disappointed or angry with you, I just didn't want you to get hurt. That's all." He takes my hand in his and rubs his thumb gently over the back of my hand. This time I feel no urge to pull away.

"Bella, I was only trying to comfort you, why did you pull away like that? You can't imagine the awful scenarios that are swimming around my head right now. Seeing you broken like this, with clothes that are in tatters, I'm really struggling not to beg the answers out of you. I know you need to tell me in your own time, but I am so, so worried about you." His voice chokes up as he finishes speaking.

I nod my head, knowing that I have to tell him. An explanation is the least he deserves from me. I look into his eyes and clear my throat to speak.

"You're right, I do owe you some sort of an explanation." My voice sounds weak and distant even to my ears. He smiles encouragingly at me and nods gently.

I look around and my eyes fall on the conservatory at the end of the kitchen. It's become extremely dark now and the crescent moon and stars can be seen through the glass roof; my eyes settle on the wicker furniture. I rise from the floor and grabbing the blanket in one hand, I extend my other hand out to Edward. He takes it and pulls himself up from the floor. I lead him towards the conservatory. He follows unquestioningly.

I let go of his hand and cross the room to sit cross-legged on the wicker sofa. I tuck the blanket around my shoulders and fall back into the safety of the soft cushions. Edward stands in the doorway watching me, waiting for further instruction. I pat the free space next to me. He walks quickly, almost running, crossing the room in a couple of paces and occupies the seat. On any other occasion his eagerness would be comical. He's mindful to leave a small gap between us.

I stare out at the orchard; it's illuminated by the moon and stars. The babbling river at the foot of the garden can just be heard. Something about being shrouded in darkness and looking out over the orchard gives me the confidence I need to tell Edward about everything that happened tonight.

I can feel his eyes on me. I take a deep breath and clear my throat; staring straight ahead, I begin to speak.

"I found out this evening, that James has been having an affair with his boss." Saying the words aloud makes it seem even more real. I leave them to hang in the air. Edward reaches out a hand and rubs my back. He doesn't say a word, waiting for me to go on.

"When he came home late tonight, I saw them kissing in her car." I wring my hands before continuing.

"I stupidly decided to confront him about it. So I sat in the kitchen in the dark waiting for him to come into the house." I swallow loudly.

"He'd been drinking. I told him I knew all about the affair and that I wanted to separate from him. I told him that I would leave if he wouldn't move out of the house." I pause, unsure of how to go on. Tears fall down my face; I can't believe I have anything left in me to cry.

"H-he said he had no intention of leaving and that he wouldn't let me leave either. That he intended to, to..." I clutch my stomach feeling sickened, my anxiety heightens as I get closer to the more harrowing part of the night's proceedings.

"To keep seeing both of us, saying that I was a pathetic excuse for a woman and was only good for cleaning and taking care of him." Out of the corner of my eye I see Edward's fist clench and his face looks thunderous. He keeps quiet waiting for me to go on.

"I-I told him I hated him, and that if he wouldn't leave me, then I'd leave him. I tried to get past him and out of the house, but he was too strong for me. H-he started to pull at my hair, to rip my dress. He was touching me and..." My fingers are in my hair pulling harshly as I rock back and forth, gulping air. Edward's hands touch mine and gently prise them from my hair.

"And what Bella?" His voice snaps me out of my trance. I turn to look at him, my eyes wide as I chew anxiously on my bottom lip.

"He, he pushed me to the ground and tore at my underwear...he tried to r-r..." I struggle to finish my sentence, my voice breaking; it's barely a whisper as I trail off, unable to say the words.

Edward leaps from the sofa, shaking with rage, his hands form fists as he stares down at me.

"Rape you?" His voice booms out at me.

"Are you saying he tried to rape you Bella?" He sounds possessed, I nod gently my head barely bobbing.

"He tried to fucking rape you!" His voice sounds incredulous as it booms around the room. He paces back and forth in the conservatory, pushing back his sleeves and running his hands through his hair.

"I'll fucking kill the bastard!" He speaks through gritted teeth and starts to make his way towards the front of the house.

I stare after him in shock, unsure of what to do. The sound of him unlocking the front door breaks me from my daze and spurs me into action. I tear down the hallway after him, pushing past him and slamming the door shut. I stand with my back pressed against the door, my hands on his chest. I look up at him, my eyes pleading with him to stay where he is.

"Bella, please get out of my way. I'm not going to let that smug little piece of shit get away with this!" He sounds resolute, as though his mind is made up and he cannot be convinced otherwise.

"Edward, I'm not moving. I don't want you going over there. You don't know what he's capable of! I don't want you getting hurt. I couldn't take it if something happened to you because of me. You're all I have." I whisper the last part as I look at him.

He takes a step back from me and groans angrily.

"Fine, I'll stay away. For now..." He speaks through gritted teeth.

"But when I think about what he tried to do to you, it makes my blood boil." He closes his eyes and rubs his face with his hands.

"Then don't think about it." I mutter quietly. It's all I can think of to say as I shrug apologetically.

"Don't think about it? You really think it's that easy? It's all I can fucking think about, Bella." He lashes out and punches the wall, his hand connecting with the plaster and brick. It makes a horrible crunching sound, and he hisses in pain as he clutches his fist to himself.

I stare at him, shocked by his display of emotion. I feel like I should be frightened of him because of his violent outburst, but I find it a comfort that he feels so strongly about me.

I tentatively walk towards him. Closing my eyes, I place a feather-light kiss on each knuckle. He sighs in defeat. His other hand comes up to gently stroke the back of my head.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that. I didn't mean to scare you. I don't ever want to scare you." His voice is quiet; he sounds like a lost little boy.

"You didn't scare me." I keep my head bowed.

"Let's put some ice on that hand." I lead him into the kitchen, grateful for a task to perform, something to focus my attention on.

I grab a tea towel and an ice-tray from the freezer. Breaking the ice into the towel, I walk to where Edward is sitting and gently apply the cold compress to his hand. He smiles meekly at me and takes the makeshift ice-pack from my hands, holding it there himself.

"Bella, I'm sorry to have to ask you this, but has James ever hit you or done anything like this to you before tonight?" Edward's voice is apprehensive when he asks me this, almost like he doesn't really want to know the answer. I sit on a nearby chair and look across at him.

"Yes. He has hurt me before." My voice is a whisper on the air, it's almost as if I haven't spoken. I duck my head and shrug my shoulders unable to say anymore.

Edward sighs and shakes his head sadly.

"I wish you'd told me earlier. I had my suspicions that night you invited me over for dinner. I should've pushed you harder to tell me! I've been such an idiot. I hate to think of what you've been going through over there, while I've been moping and burying my head in the sand over here." He shakes his head regretfully.

"You've been more help to me, than you realise. Having you to talk to and spend time with, gave me the courage I needed to leave him this evening." I smile shyly at him.

"It's still a bitter pill to swallow. I feel wretched. I should've seen the signs." He kicks the leg of the table angrily.

"I want you to know you can stay here for as long as you want. I am not going to let you out of my sight. I will help you with anything and everything you need." He speaks confidently and I feel so comforted by his kind offer.

"Thank you, Edward. It means so much to know I have someone I can rely on." I smile at him meekly. A bout of tiredness washes over me and I try to stifle a yawn.

"I'm not surprised you're tired, it's late. Do you think you will be able to sleep? We can talk more in the morning." He raises an eyebrow at me, waiting for an answer.

"I am exhausted, but I'd really like to have a shower." I wrap my arms around myself. I feel eager to wipe all traces of James and the evening from my weary skin.

"Of course, do you want to go upstairs and I'll get you something to change into?" He waits for an answer.

I nod and rise from the table, making my way to the hallway, listening as Edward moves around in the kitchen putting items away. I pause at the front door, checking the handle. I see it is still unlocked from earlier. I lock and bolt it and then double-check it. Satisfied that it's locked, I make my way upstairs. I'm not sure which room is the bathroom, but I'm sure I'll find it.

X-X-X-X-X

Stepping out of the shower, I wrap a fluffy towel around my damp body. I lean over the bath and wring my hair out before wrapping it in another towel. Moving over to the mirror I wipe away the steam with my hand.

I barely recognise the blotchy puffy-eyed girl staring back at me. I look as exhausted as I feel. Sighing, I run the tap and splash some cold water on my face. The sound of a knock at the bathroom door makes me yelp as I wipe my face on the bottom of the towel I'm wearing.

"Bella, it's me. I didn't mean to frighten you. I've got some clothes for you to change into." Edward's voice is muffled and it sounds as though he is standing very close to the door.

I unlock the door and look up at him. He hands me a pile of neatly folded clothes and I take them gratefully. He eyes graze over my body and linger on my bare arms. I watch as his eyes narrow and his perfect mouth twists into a scowl. I turn my head to follow his gaze. My eyes come to rest on an old cigar burn that James gave me. He reaches out and gently strokes it with his thumb before stooping to kiss it tenderly.

I close my eyes to stop the tears falling and clear my throat.

"I'll be out in a minute, thanks for the clothes."

He nods sadly and I shut the door.

I blow through my mouth shakily and fan my eyes. I don't want to cry any more, I'm exhausted. I look at the clothes he has given me; they're huge and they smell of him. I hold them to my nose and breathe in deeply. I drop the towel to the floor and pull on the jogging bottoms. I have to fold the waistband over twice just to get them to rest on my hips. I pull the jumper over my head and snuggle into it as it falls to my thighs. I bend to scoop up the towel. After folding it I put it back on the heated rail, using the other towel to dry my hair.

As I finish drying my hair, I return the towel and notice my clothes laying in the corner of the room. I pick them up and put them in the bin, not wanting to see them ever again. When I open the bathroom door Edward is waiting on the landing. He's wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms and a tight-fitting t-shirt that shows off his muscular physique. He smiles when he sees me.

"You're so petite, you look adorable in my clothes." I blush at the compliment and mouth a thank you.

"Umm, do you have a hair brush I could use?" He nods and motions for me to follow him. I pad after him into his bedroom.

"Sit." He points to the large double bed and retrieves a hairbrush. I sit down and hold out my hand for the brush.

"Can I do it for you?" He asks quietly.

Shocked that he would want to do something so tender for me, something James would find so beneath him, I can only nod. He comes to sit behind me and starts to brush my hair, beginning at the tips, pulling out any knots before working his way further up my head. It makes my back tingle as I close my eyes and my muscles relax.

"I used to do this for Tanya a long time ago. She said she found it comforting. I thought it might do the same for you." He speaks quietly as he combs my hair from the root to the tip using long sweeping strokes. I almost fall asleep, it's so soothing. It's only when he stops brushing that I come to and open my eyes.

I turn my head to look at him over my shoulder and smile gratefully.

"Was that ok?"

"It was wonderful, just what I needed. Thank you." I smile softly.

He climbs off the bed and turns down the covers for me to climb under the sheets. I fall into the bed and he tucks the sheets up to my chin and strokes my head.

"You can sleep in here and I'll stay in the spare bedroom tonight." He speaks in a no-nonsense voice and I yawn sleepily, my eyelids feeling heavy.

He makes his way to the doorway and turns off the light. Just as I feel sleep beginning to take over, I watch his silhouette as he stands in the opening to the room.

"Edward..." I call out into the night.

"Yes Bella?" His voice catches as if he's shocked I knew he was still there.

"I don't want to be on my own tonight. Will you sleep here with me instead?" I know I sound needy, but I just want to know he is close, keeping me safe.

"Are you sure?" I hear him make his way over to the bed.

"Mh-hmm." I answer sleepily.

I feel his weight on the bed as he lies on top of the covers next to me. He lies on his back, his arms crossed behind his head. I scoot over to his side of the bed and press my back into his side. He turns to lie on his side, draping an arm over my waist, resting it above the covers.

"Is this ok?" His voice is hushed and right by my ear. I nod and he snuggles closer, burying his face in my hair and breathing deeply.

My breathing evens out and I'm almost asleep when I hear him speak, breaking the silence.

"Bella?"

"Yes, Edward?"

"You know you're going to have to talk to the police about the things that James has done to you." He speaks nervously.

"I know. Will you come with me?" I ask timidly.

"Of course." He squeezes me once and kisses me behind the ear. I gently drift off to sleep.

X-X-X-X-X

A loud smash wakes me up with a jolt. I momentarily forget where I am, not recognising any of my surroundings. I turn to see Edward softly snoring next to me. I shake him gently and he makes a soft moaning sound. It's still dark and very late.

"Edward." I hiss, trying to wake him up, as I hear the sound of someone banging on the front door.

"Edward!" I shake him again more forcefully. This time he wakes up and sits bolt upright.

"What's wrong? What is it?" He looks confused.

"I heard a noise and the sound of someone banging." I start to shake with nerves and he wraps an arm around me, giving my shoulders a squeeze.

"It's probably nothing but I'll go check." He climbs off the bed and makes his way downstairs.

"Edward, be careful!" I call after him, before I decide to get out of bed and follow him.

"Bella, stay here." He points a finger at me.

I hear the sound of a bottle smashing and someone laughing. I look out of the upstairs window and I can see James staggering around the front garden. He's completely drunk.

"It's James!"

I instinctively begin to shake. I feel cold. I huddle into the clothes Edward gave me, as if they are a suit of armour.

"Isabella, get out here now you frigid little bitch! There's no way I'm letting you stay with him, you fucking whore!" His voice is slurred as he shouts.

Edward and I both turn to look at each other. I grab his arm.

"Please don't go down there, Edward. I'm begging you."

He pats my hand and makes his way down the stairs. I follow after him, desperate to try and stop him.

"Please, you don't know what he's capable of! Especially when he's been drinking." I cling onto Edward's t-shirt.

"Bella, I'll be fine, I promise. He's too drunk to try anything." He nods assuredly, but I'm not so convinced.

James' tirade of abuse breaks through our hushed conversation.

"Have you fucked him yet you slag? I know you're in there you fucking cunt!" I can make out the sound of him spitting on the doorstep.

James' words flip a switch in Edward.

"Right, that's enough. I'm not standing by and having him talk about you like that. Go upstairs and call the police. I'm going to speak to him." He makes his way to the door while I stand rooted to the spot.

"James, if you don't shut the fuck up and get off my property I'm coming out there!" Edward's voice sounds powerful and strong.

"Bella, get upstairs I'm begging you." He turns to look over his shoulder at me.

"Fuck you Cullen, you fucking pussy! I'm not scared of you!" It goes worryingly quiet outside.

Suddenly a rock comes flying through the front room window, smashing the glass and landing in the middle of the room. I scream as I hear James bellow with laughter.

"I fucking warned you, James! I'm going to enjoy beating the shit out of you." Edward starts to unlock the front door and turns to me.

"Lock this behind me and call the police. I'll be fine!" He sounds so brave. I run to him and kiss him on the lips.

He kisses me back quickly and then slips out the door. I lock it firmly behind him and run to the kitchen to call the police.

I dial the number. It connects immediately.

"Hello Emergency Services, which service do you require?"

Before I have a chance to speak, I hear the sound of a fight breaking out. I drop the phone and dash to the front of the house, unsure of what awaits me.

**A/n: Well there you have it! Another cliffy... cruel of me I know! As ever if you have the time let me know what you think. There's a pint of scrumpy and a scotch egg in it for you :-)****  
See you at the next chapter!  
Flubbles x**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/n: Hello All! Crikey another update already? I know, I know what is going on? Well I couldn't leave you for long with a cliff-hanger like that could I. **

**A huge thanks goes to xoEMC and Jaustenlover for turning this chapter round so quickly. They are both truly amazing. **

**Enjoy.  
Flubbles x**

Chapter 24

I run to the front door, tripping over my own feet and the material of the oversized clothes that Edward has lent me. I grab handfuls of the jogging bottoms and hitch them up, pulling them off my ankles. I look like a character from a Jane Austen novel, pulling up her underskirt so that she doesn't soil the hem. The fact I'm also wearing a pair of thick mountaineering socks doesn't help either. In my urgency, I slide like Bambi on ice over the polished parquet floor of the hallway.

I stumble ever closer, pausing when I hear the high-pitched possessed sounding voice of James. He hurls profanities and obscenities at Edward. I come up onto my tip-toes so that can I peep through the spy-hole. I look through with my left-eye, closing the right and straining to get the best outlook possible.

I ease myself up against the door, the cold wood penetrating through the jumper and sending a shiver down my spine as my hands and breasts are pressed up against its hard unyielding surface. It has begun to rain heavily and this reduces my visibility. I can just make out James as he staggers around the garden, splashing in puddles and soaking himself repeatedly. Edward is sensibly giving him a wide berth, standing on the porch, his hands raised, palms facing outwards in a sign of peace.

I strain my ears to hear their conversation, trying to make out the muffled sounds coming through the door. I watch the scene unfolding before me, my limited window to their exchange making it seem even more intense.

Getting agitated with the poor view, I go to the front room, hoping that I will be able to see more. I enter the room leaving the light off. I'm shocked by what confronts me. Rain is coming in through the broken window and glass lies in the middle of the floor. The offending rock lies in the middle of the mess. I carefully step over the broken shards of glass and using the curtain to hide my frame, I peek through the gaping hole in the window. Just as I take up my position James speaks.

"Have you fucked her yet Cullen?" James shouts at Edward and takes a swig from a bottle. It looks like whiskey, but it could be anything. It's impossible to tell in the poor light. I am certain it's alcohol though.

"She likes it rough you know. Pretends she doesn't; likes to play hard to get. But I know deep down she wants it really. I mean what woman wouldn't." He motions at his own body and stretches out his arms, as if indicating he is a fine specimen of man. He chuckles to himself before taking another drink.

I watch as he loosens his tie and runs his stubby hands through his hair.

"Watch your fucking mouth, James. She deserves to be treated with respect." Edward counters and takes a step closer to James, pointing in his direction. _Oh god Edward, please be careful, don't take the bait!_ I clasp my hands together nervously.

"You fancy her don't you? I fucking knew it that day you came round for dinner. Saw the way you looked at her. Think you'd be better for her than me, eh?" James spits on the ground and stumbles forward.

Edward stands his ground, his body consumed with rage as he glares at James. I can see the muscles in his back tense; his t-shirt is getting damp and sticks to him in the hard rain. It's really hammering it down.

"Bella is far too good a woman for you. You're nothing but scum." Edward pauses, letting his words sink in before continuing.

"I saw it for myself that night in the pub. Watched the way you leered at and heckled the barmaids - women you wouldn't stand a chance with. I just assumed you were a 'look but don't touch' sort of man. I know different now, though," he speaks through gritted teeth, looking James up and down in disgust.

I gasp at Edward's words and cover my mouth with my hand in shock. I never realised James was making a mockery of me at the local hostelry as well as at his workplace.

James chuckles bitterly, his hair plastered to his head in the continuing rain storm.

"Do you think I give a shit what you think about me, Cullen? And since when have you been calling her Bella?" James pauses, obviously waiting for an answer. Edward doesn't bother to provide a response, so he continues.

"That was what her waste of space of a mother used to call her, you know. _My sweet, sweet Bella._" He mimics my mother's voice as he recites her name for me.

His words cut straight to my heart and I stifle a sob, biting down on my fist to stop from crying out in emotional pain. I clutch my stomach with my other hand and almost double over in agony. No, not my wonderful mother, don't bring her into this, don't use her name in vain.

"Charlie Swan had the right idea. All you need to do is break their will; make them feel grateful to have you. Show them who's boss. They're quite simple creatures...women. Of course in Isabella's case, he'd done most of the hard work for me." I bend at the waist and close my eyes tightly, tears rolling down my face as I am consumed with grief and despair.

"She was a pathetic little thing when I met her at University. Nervous as fuck!"

I begin to shake, his verbal assault completely disarming me. I feel myself falling to pieces. I take gasping sobs, hiccupping as I take in air, trying to suppress my crying; he knows how to hurt me. I try not to make any loud noises as I know they'll hear me. Straightening slowly I resume my position at the window. I shiver as the wind whips through the window and chills me to the bone. My gaze settles first on James. He looks so unjustifiably arrogant, staggering round the garden, believing he has the upper-hand.

I switch my view to watch Edward, his right-hand twitches and flexes into a fist. I tremble at the thought of what must be going through his mind. The horrific things James is saying has almost paralysed me. I know I should go back and grab the phone. I should call the police again, but I can't make myself move. I'm rooted to the spot like one of the trees in the orchard.

"She was a virgin you know. So very eager to please, if you know what I'm saying. Great at sucking cock too-"

Edward roars and charges across the garden, rugby tackling James round the waist and knocking him to the ground. The bottle is tossed up in the air; it somersaults before it comes to land on the gravel with a dull thud and breaks in two. I watch as Edward and James wrestle on the wet and muddy ground. Their bodies grapple with each other as they grunt and growl, fighting like two wild animals.

Edward has the upper hand and has James lain out flat while he straddles him, punching him in the face and upper body. I can hear the punches as they fly, connecting with James flesh, muscle and bone. I feel disappointed with myself as I gain a sick pleasure from watching Edward beat the life out of James. I know I should go and stop him, but I don't want to. I watch his fist pull back again and again, pummelling James body.

Every punch from Edward is for every kick, slap, taunt and jibe that I have endured. I want James to feel the pain and suffering that I have experienced over the years. He deserves every minute of this. I want him to suffer as much as I had to. This one beating is nothing compared to the demoralising and degrading things he subjected me to. My fists are clenched at my sides as I imagine it's me punching him with all I'm worth.

I watch intently, unable to tear my eyes away. James bucks up against Edward, trying to shove him off, trying to take swings at him. He's so drunk the blows either miss or lack any power behind them. As I devour all of the violence, completely transfixed, something changes and I hear a voice in my head. It wills me to stop them, to go out and break up the fight.

_Edward is worth so much more than this_. My conscious continues to reason with me. _If he were to hurt James fatally, his life too would be over. I need to stop him, need to help him. It's the right thing to do. He's not the monster James is. I will be his salvation_. I try to suppress the sick part of me that is enjoying the beating James is receiving, trying to listen to the good voice.

I run to the hallway, open the door quickly and step out into the night. The biting, icy rain soaks my hair and clothes in seconds; the heavy woollen material seems to stretch and double in size; my socks squelching almost immediately as they fill with mud and dirty rain water.

As I get near to them I see the glass of the broken bottle glinting in the moonlight. I can only see the back of Edward as he overpowers James, his hands are wrapped around James neck. I realise that Edward is throttling him; he appears completely consumed by his rage. They are both plastered in mud and rain water.

I call out to Edward, but I illicit no response. I trudge closer, trying to move faster, but I'm hampered by my clothing. My legs feel as though they are made of lead. They become heavier with each step.

My eyes once again focus on the broken bottle. As I look closer I can see that James' fingers are extended dangerously close to it. Reaching out for the broken glass, his fingers inch ever closer. Before I have a chance to warn Edward I see James make contact with the object. Grabbing it around the neck he lifts it ready to swing it at Edward's head.

"Edwaaard! Look out!" I scream desperately.

He chooses this moment to hear me and turns to look at me, loosening his grip on James.

"Bella, get back in the house!" Edward shouts, waving an arm at me, motioning for me to move backwards.

The bottle in James' hand rises as if in slow motion and comes down to connect with the back of Edward's head. I watch dumbstruck as it knocks him out cold. He falls into a slumped heap, crumbling under his own weight. I scream uncontrollably, my hands flying up to cover my mouth. I run towards them as James pushes him away, crawling out from under the dead-weight. He coughs and splutters until he is able to breathe once more.

I come to kneel before Edward, cradling his head in my lap. I feel around the back of his head, running my fingers through his damp hair. Thankfully there isn't any blood, but I can feel a lump forming. His breathing is normal, I feel the pulse in his neck and it's pumping strong. I pat his cheeks gently, repeating his name, desperately willing him to wake up.

_Oh god._ I need to phone an ambulance, but I don't want to leave Edward alone with James. _Oh god, oh god I have fucked up royally!_

I feel tears at my eyes, but I blink them back, shaking my head determinedly. _Think Bella! _

Now is not the time to fall apart. I'll be of no use to anyone. I need to take action here, Edward is depending upon me. For once I'm all he has. I turn to look at James, knowing that the only real option is to go back into the house to call the paramedics. James is totally consumed by a coughing fit, rubbing his neck with his hands. He's positioned with his back to me as he retches loudly.

I rise slowly, hoping that I can make it into the house without him noticing. If I can get inside I can grab a knife or something to protect myself from him.

I turn silently on my heel and start to move towards the house.

"And where do you think you're going, whore?" His sinister voice stops me in my tracks and I turn slowly to look at him.

_Be strong Bella! _

"Edward needs an ambulance. I'm going to phone the police. I was a witness. I saw you hit him with the bottle." I start to take steps backwards, hoping he won't notice. It's slow going, but progress nonetheless.

"Just your word against mine, Isabella. I'm sure it won't take much to silence you." He raises an eyebrow and sneers at me.

"Stay away from me James, I'm warning you! I'm not frightened of you anymore." I try to stop my voice from sounding shaky and uncertain.

"Well you should be!" He shouts and starts running towards me.

I panic and bolt straight for the safety of the orchard. I dash past the old established trees of the orchard and into the more sparse section that is home to all of the new varieties that Edward recently acquired. I can hear James stalking behind me, twigs breaking under his weight and the damp leaves and earth sloshing underfoot. I know the terrain better than he does and I hope to god this works in my favour.

I crouch down behind a large shrub and listen as he walks past my hiding place. He calls out to me.

"You might as well come out, Isabella. It's just a matter of time before I find you. You never were very good at hiding. Do you remember?" I shudder, trying to block out his cruel words...

_It is pretty early on in our marriage and he comes home exceptionally drunk in the daytime. I hide under the bed and pretend I am out, hoping he will just pass out and leave me alone, my heart catches in my throat as his hands wrap around on my ankles. Dragging me out from under the bed roughly, he educates me as to why a wife should never hide from her husband ... _

I shiver from the memory and something inside of me snaps. _No more! _I square my shoulders and have to bite my tongue to stop from shouting at him in a show of defiance.

"If you come out, we can just forget any of this ever happened. I won't be angry with you and we can just go back to how things were. I'm sure you'd like that really."

I watch him from my hiding place; the branches scratch at my face and catch in my wild hair. I'm holding my breath so that I don't make any noise.

I just need him to walk a little further into the orchard - then I can make a sprint for the house.

"You'll never make it out in the big wide world alone you know. You can't cope without me. Do you think Edward will help you? When he sees how truly useless and pathetic you are he'll drop you like a hot coal, you frigid bitch." He kicks at a rock and stands on the spot calling out, his eyes constantly searching.

I ignore his jibes. I know his words are poison. They're just lies. I see that now.

"And don't think I'll want you back when he's through with you. Victoria is a much better shag than you'll ever be." He laughs haughtily.

I try to shut out his attempts to break me. I need to focus on getting out of this situation unharmed and getting Edward some help. I give myself a much needed pep talk as I observe James, willing him to walk further into the orchard.

"Oh for fuck's sake, just come out. I'm not playing anymore. You're making me very angry, you stupid cunt." He roars and runs through the orchard looking frenzied, tearing around between the rows of trees. He snaps smaller tree branches and tramples down spring bulbs unnecessarily as he bulldozes his way through.

Although difficult, I ignore the destruction and seize my opportunity to dash back to the house. I can see the light coming from the kitchen, shining through the conservatory in the distance. The rain bites at the skin on my face as I run in the direction of the light.

From out of nowhere I trip on a tree root. My feet fly out from underneath me and I land like a sack of potatoes on my front in the mud. My face is covered and I have earth in my mouth. I spit out the bitter, acrid tasting mud, grit catches between my teeth. Every part of me screams in pain as I rise slowly on shaky arms.

The noise must've caught James attention. I look over my shoulder and see him running towards me.

"There you are!" He picks up his pace, although he's still staggering. The alcohol is clearly still present in his system.

I pick myself up, wincing through the pain. Half limping, half running I stagger across the remainder of the garden. James is quicker than I anticipate, I keep turning my head over my shoulder to check on his progress, he inches ever closer. I trip again, but manage to stop myself from tumbling this time.

Just as I think I'm home free and relief prematurely warms my bones, I feel myself being pulled backwards. The fabric of my jumper becomes tight around my neck. My eyes widen with panic as I recognise the feel of James grip, pulling me backwards. My hands stretch out towards the house, grasping at thin air.

I turn my head as much as possible; his face is inches from mine. My breath catches and I pull against his grip on my clothing, hoping to wrestle free. I try and wriggle out of the jumper, but to no avail. I swing round and reach out in an attempt to slap at James with my open hand. He grabs my wrist before it connects with him and twists it painfully. I feel something snap in my arm and I cry out in unimaginable pain. He lets go and I fall to the ground, clutching my arm to me. I almost black out in pain.

"Still so weak and pathetic." I try to rise to my feet using my one good hand, my arm shakes under the weight. I manage to get onto my knees, cradling my arm to my chest, and begin to rise.

I don't see his boot, but I feel it as it connects with my ribcage, knocking the wind right out of me. I fall back to the ground, sprawled out languishing in the cold, damp, sticky mud. I am left reeling from the pain as he stands over me. He's swaying with drunkenness. With my last ounce of strength, I swing my legs round kicking his feet out from underneath him. He falls back with his legs flying up into the air; in any other setting it would be comical.

I scramble to my feet and sprint towards the house, adrenaline coursing through me. It makes the pain seem distant and almost bearable. I arrive at the conservatory, and relief floods through me as I reach a hand out for the door handle. I could almost cry with joy, until I try the door. It's locked. I twist the doorknob, rattling it. _Damn!_ I kick at the door in desperation, crying out in pain when I remember I'm not wearing any shoes. I barge up against the door with my good shoulder, hoping I can break the lock, but it just won't budge.

I turn to see James charging at me. He looks demented with his flaring nostrils and outstretched hands.

"I'm going to kill you, you fucking bitch." He snarls in my direction.

As he comes closer I look around for something to defend myself with, anything to fend him off. I see a spade that Edward has thankfully forgotten to put in his shed. I reach out, ignoring the throbbing in my wrist and grab hold of the wooden handle. It feels sturdy and strong in my hands; the strength it presents flows through to me.

I stand tall and wield the tool above my head. As James comes closer he pauses momentarily. He smiles at me and I see his teeth glint in the moonlight.

"You wouldn't dare hit me with that! You're too much of a coward, Isabella Swan. Too cowardly even to have my name. You're an embarrassment!"

He charges further forward.

Swinging my arms I bring the spade down. It makes a dull clunking sound as it connects with his head. He lets out a weak groan and falls to the ground holding his head.

As if I can still hear him teasing and mocking me, I bring up the spade and hit him again on the back. I feel so strong, so powerful, invincible; the tool in my hands feels so light. He yells in pain and it's as if I'm having an outer body experience- like someone else is hitting him.

"Bella! No!"

I pause, the spade raised in the air above my head.

Edward's stood off to the side of the house, using it to prop himself up. His arm is reaching out towards me.

Relief floods through me as I see Edward. As I come out of my trance, I hear the sound of sirens faintly in the distance signalling that the police are coming.

Edward walks slowly and falteringly towards me. I lower the spade and let it fall from my hand. It hits the ground with a thud. I close my eyes and weep into my hands, my shoulders wracking with sobs. I let out an almost primal scream as I feel Edward's arms come to wrap around me.

James' groaning and spluttering sounds so distant to me. I fall into Edwards arms and cry with relief.

_It's over now. It's finally over!_

**A/n: If any of you actually care or are slightly confused, a spade is an English name for what you call a shovel. A pickled egg with some ready salted crisps and a pint of porter is up for grabs for all reviewers. **

**Love Flubbles x **


	25. Chapter 25

**A/n: Hello All, Sorry for the delay with this chapter, it has been teased, tickled, tweaked and...Well you get the idea! However I think this is possibly the longest chapter I have ever written (no I'm not including the A/n)! A huge thank you, to xoEMC and Jaustenlover for their help and guidance with this chapter. It was a bit of a beast to write and I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks also to Raina for the medical help and to the ladies on twitter for their assistance with some of the other things included in this chapter.**

**As ever I hope you like it. **

**Flubbles x**

Chapter 25

I give my statement to the police. As deeply distressing as it is, I try to detail as much as possible. Leaving nothing out, leaving no stone unturned, I am almost clinical with my descriptions, imagining it happening to someone else makes it easier to discuss.

I ensure every aspect of the depraved things James said and attempted to do to me are noted down with accuracy. I attempt to give them the back story, but they really only seem to care about the events of this evening. It is quite frankly, draining.

It seems as if they are trying to implicate Edward further. I refuse to let them. I am vague with my descriptions of the violent exchanges that take place between him and James. I am open and honest about my attack on James. I struggle to contain my contempt for him while trying to hide my elation about my newfound freedom from such an abhorrent individual.

They photograph my bruises, marks and scars. Standing in a bleak hospital side room, I have nothing but a pair of paper knickers and a hospital gown covering my dignity. My trembling hands press the hard scratchy fibre to my breasts so that it cannot expose me further. The flash of the camera is harsh in the artificially lit room. The two female police constables stare at me pityingly. I want to get out of there so badly, away from their eyes and judgement. The whole process feels like it's taking hours, but it is more like minutes.

The nurses kindly find me some old clothing to wear. The damp pile of things I was wearing - that belong to Edward - are in a carrier bag resting at my feet. He's in with the police now giving his statement.

Thinking of Edward makes me cast my mind back to the young female doctor that examined him.

_I was in the adjacent cubicle, the curtain walls didn't act as much of a buffer for their conversation. She was insistent he stayed in for at least 24 hours so she could keep him under observation. I could hear in her voice that she was attempting to flirt with him. How unprofessional! Edward was oblivious to her advances. He insisted he would be fine, informing her that he had me to take care of and that there was no way he would leave me alone. _

Just the memory of that exchange makes my lips curl up in a small smile. A wave of warmth cloaks around me and I close my eyes, yawning tiredly.

Stretching, I gaze around the bustling Accident and Emergency ward; it's heaving with activity. Organised bedlam. Nurses and doctors stride confidently through the swathes of moaning patients all of whom believe their needs are paramount. I feel as though I'm invisible, sitting here. Observing them but not participating on any level.

I curl up my legs underneath myself and try to get comfortable on the hard plastic chair. Looking straight ahead, my eyes focus on a poor quality Monet poster that has seen better days. It's encased in a plastic safety frame. Probably for the best, based on some of the clientele surrounding me.

This causes my thoughts to wander to the recently vacated seat a few rows down. The drunken man that sat there moments before had an extensive vocabulary to say the least. He seemed to have a penchant for profanities. Some of the imaginative phrases he invented would be enough to make even the most hardened sailor blush.

I have been sitting in this ward for so long, every mundane detail of the surroundings are etched on my brain. A young female cleaner mops an already sparkling floor for what seems like the fiftieth time. It's as if the ever-present threat of bacteria is breathing on the back of her neck. Just waiting for her to take a break or take her eye off the ball, waiting to seize its opportunity to pounce and wreak havoc.

Watching her work tirelessly, makes me wonder if that's what I look like when I carry out all of the mundane duties that James asks of me.

Does she feel a sense of pride? Or does she simply complete these tasks as if on auto-pilot. Waiting for the clock to move round, time seeming to take longer than usual to pass. Until, finally, it is time for her to escape and some other poor individual has to carry out the same repetitive mundane duties for the next ten-hour minimum wage stint.

I turn my head marginally and watch her as covertly as possible. She's wearing the standard hospital uniform of dark green trousers and a green and white striped polyester shirt that is tucked under a dark green tabard. An ID card swings from her breast pocket, I can't make out her name from here. Her feet are encased in a pair of those white safety shoes that you only ever see in hospitals.

My eyes travel up to her young, smooth, unblemished face, her hair scraped back in a severe ponytail. It's only then I notice she is wearing earphones. I see the wire clearly now, trailing down her upper body and into her trouser pocket. She's listening to something.

I watch as she pauses, her mop stilling. Her eyebrows knit in concentration as she mutters something under her breath. Then she pauses before speaking again. _What is she doing? She's not listening to music. _

She comes closer to the row of bright blue hard plastic chairs that I am sitting on. They remind me of infrequent trips to the theatre as a child. All of the chairs are conjoined and bolted to the floor. To stop people launching them like grenades into the frenzied crowd I assume. I shake the thought from my head and return my attention to the young girl.

"_The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog." _

She says the phrase quietly in a thick foreign accent. I cannot make out exactly where her accent is from but it sounds Czech or Russian. I listen again as she repeats the phrase this time with more confidence. She pauses, listening, before muttering again.

"The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain."

She struggles immensely with this sentence, pronouncing it in a sort of broken Queen's English. It finally dawns on me, she is learning our native language. Albeit, with a peculiar set of phrases that seem to revolve around a recorded voice demonstrating Received Pronunciation.

I smile to myself. Well, well, all is not as it appears on the surface. I feel a blush spread up my neck and warm my cheeks. I mentally scold myself for so harshly judging this woman initially. Appearances are indeed deceptive. She is clearly trying to change her fortunes. I feel myself being comforted by this thought. Perhaps we aren't all defined by the situations we are forced to live through. Anyone can better themselves and the things that happen to us along the way help to shape us.

I look down at my forearm, a fractured radius apparently, confirmation by x-ray. I haven't even heard of the bone that runs from the inside of my elbow up to the thumb-side of my wrist. I feel the need to store this useless piece of information, never knowing when it may come in handy. I wiggle my swollen fingers and thumb, pins and needles setting in. They're the only part of my right-arm I can actually move from the elbow down.

I think the dark blue cast is the most discrete and understated of the available options. I scratch at its hard shell with the nails of my other hand. It feels a bit like a medal or a prize, some sort of recognition of my battle with James.

I'm not really sure how I feel at the moment. Obviously there are the expected emotions; exhaustion, relief and a growing fear of the imminent future and what it holds for me.

So many things unknown - what an exciting and altogether daunting prospect!

_What will happen to James? What will happen to the house? Where will I live? What will I do for money? Who do I have now? _

Panic bubbles up inside me. I really am all alone now, no family, no husband...just one friend, Edward. _Even he left, though... _A distant voice utters in my head. _He doesn't know what he wants, what makes you think he would want you!_ There it goes again. _God what have I done? Is this all for the best? What about better the devil you know? _

I feel my breathing change, becoming ragged. My chest constricts. A jumble of anxious thoughts whirl through my mind. I feel like covering my ears to block out the thoughts and screaming "la, la, la I'm not listening" until my mind goes quiet.

I breathe deeply and close my eyes, trying to calm myself.

I focus on the positives, albeit the limited positives. James is under police watch, handcuffed to his bed as he is to be kept in overnight for observation. His diagnosis is that of a concussion and a couple of broken ribs. I don't want to know the details, but as his next of kin the doctors feel the need to keep me informed.

I hear a pair of feet shuffle and come to a stop near me. I breathe a sigh of relief when  
I open my eyes and see it's Edward. My whole body relaxes whenever he is near.

"All done with the police?" I enquire, trying to sound bright and breezy, but failing miserably.

"Yes, they say we're both free to go, but that we're not to leave the country." He smiles tightly at me.

"Seriously though, they're going to be in touch to discuss our statements. As well as to gather any other information they might need. I'm sure they'll want to speak to you again after they have got some sense out of James."

He sits down on one of the hard chairs next to me and drapes an arm around my shoulders. Sighing I rest my head on his shoulder. He rests his cheek on the top of my head.

"I guess it's to be expected. I just don't relish discussing the minutiae of my dysfunctional relationship with James. I know it's for the best in the long-run."

"Bella, I can't imagine how hard it must be discussing these things with the police." I feel him shake his head sadly. He reaches for my hand and links his fingers with mine, resting them in my lap.

"It's just so difficult to talk about. The detail they want, it's like reliving it all over again." I swallow thickly and stare down at our linked hands, my hair falling forward to cover my face.

"I finally feel like I'm no longer swimming underwater. Like I've reached the surface now and I can feel the sun on my face and I can see a slither of land in the distance." I move my face to look at him, to see if he understands.

"So going over it all just feels like taking a step backwards. Almost like drowning all over again. You know?" I shrug, unsure of myself.

"Yeah, I know exactly how that feels." He places a soft, warm kiss on my forehead.

"But talking to the right people, qualified people, can really be of some help." He's referring to therapists.

I wrinkle my nose in distaste. I don't like the thought of discussing my dysfunctional upbringing coupled with my failure of a marriage with a faceless individual. Someone who is paid to over-analyse my every word, while referencing Freud and Janov and commenting on how the experiences of my youth have shaped my sorry adult life. And moreover how I found myself turning to a man that reminded me of my father.

"I will, I promise. I just need some time." I smile thinly at him, hoping he'll leave it there. He nods and runs a hand through his hair.

"Of course. Time is something we have plenty of now." He smiles and rises from the chair. I swell with happiness at his use of 'we'.

"How about we head home?" He offers me his arm. I nod enthusiastically and link my good arm through his. With my other arm I reach out to grab the plastic bag full of sodden clothing. Looking down at my wrist, I realise that I only have one fully functioning arm.

"Umm Edward would you mind carrying this?" I blush and motion in the direction of the bag with my cast.

"Sure. Is that everything?" He reaches round me and sweeps the bag up gracefully carrying it under one arm.

I nod and tuck myself into his side, resting my head on his shoulder as we make our way towards the exit. As we near the doorway a rather rotund, rude woman wearing an unflattering faux fur coat pushes past Edward roughly. I recognise her instantly and feel myself freeze. _James' mother!_

Thankfully we don't register on her radar and she heads straight in the direction of the reception desk. Edward pauses and opens his mouth to address the woman, but I squeeze his arm tightly, my fingers pressing painfully into his arm.

He looks down at me, confusion and shock at my reaction written all over his face. I shake my head vigorously, silently begging him to keep quiet. He looks at the woman who is stood with her back to us and then back at me.

She raps abruptly on the glass partition, her costume jewellery jangling loudly. I can smell her cheap acrid perfume from where we are standing. The scent transports me back in time to horrific family meals and entertaining her at our house. I feel myself shake with fear at her proximity and a cold sticky sweat breaks out on the back of my neck. She is a formidable woman, a vile, difficult and highly opinionated she-devil. James is a chip off the old block. He must make her so proud, with his cruel, manipulative ways. She's trained him well.

I haven't seen or spoken to her for months. Her visits became less frequent after the fateful day she called round when James was at work. We had only been married a matter of months...

"_Isabella, you're really letting this place go to the dogs you know. Hardly doing my son proud." She speaks like a petulant child, her voice nasal and demanding. She absently runs a finger along the table, checking for dust. _

_I sigh and roll my eyes as I pour her more tea. _

_She reaches out a pudgy well-manicured hand and helps herself to another slice of freshly baked tea loaf. She slathers butter over the cake and attempts to nibble at it delicately. _

_Her fuchsia painted lips wrap around the cake, a hint of a moustache can be seen on her upper lip. Her hair is set like a helmet around her head. I don't think even a cyclone would be powerful enough to knock a hair out of place. _

"_Ethel, please understand that you have called round unannounced and caught me a bit on the hop." I bite my tongue to stop me from saying anything further and take a sip of my tea._

"_All I'm saying Isabella is that James' sister Lauren has three young children to take care of and I know that her husband Mike isn't left wanting for anything." She drops three sugar cubes into her tea and stirs it briskly, the teaspoon clinking as it connects repeatedly with the china. She then lifts it to her lips slurping loudly. Her little finger extended in a pretentious fashion. _

"_Such a shame you can't give my James a child. Not to mention a grandchild for me to dote on. If I'd known you were such a damaged woman I don't think I'd have been so keen for James to marry you._

"_Not to mention the fact that you are a real drain on him financially since the death of your penniless parents." She sniffs haughtily and tutting, reaches for yet more cake. _

_How dare she! She can say whatever she wants about my character, but I don't ever want to hear someone take my Mother's name in vain. My blood boils over at the injustice of her words. _

_I can't stop myself. I stand swiftly, pushing my chair back loudly. At the same time I reach for the plate containing the much lusted after cake and slide it away from her. _

"_Take your things and get out of my house." I speak to her through gritted teeth. She blinks at me in shock. _

"_And if I haven't made myself clear already, you're not welcome here again without an invitation." I walk from the table and stand looking out of the kitchen window with my back to her. I feel alive, buzzing with electricity, every nerve feels like it's set on edge. _

_She huffs and puffs loudly with indignation and I hear her rise from the table. _

"_I'll be mentioning this exchange to James. He won't think twice about reminding you of your place." She scuttles out of the house slamming the front door behind her. _

That was the first time I truly learnt how cruel James could be. He made me go without food and forced me to sleep on the kitchen floor. I also had to invite her round for tea and apologise to her in front of James and his father, it was humiliating. I should've left then. _Oh why did I put up with it for so long?_

I cower into Edward's side and bury my face in his shoulder. How long will James and all things associated with him have this sort of effect on me?

"Bella, are you ok? Do you know her?" Edward whispers in my ear, his mouth tickling my hair.

I nod, unable to raise my head.

"That's James' mother." My voice is muffled by the cotton of his t-shirt.

"Makes sense." He scoffs.

"Do you need to talk with her?"

I snap my head back sharply to look up at him, almost jarring my neck. With wide eyes I shake my head emphatically.

"Certainly not! Please, let's get out of here before she sees me." My voice is desperate.

He steers me out the door and herds me into a waiting taxi. I close my eyes, lean my head back against the seat and sigh with relief as Edward gives the driver directions; we make our escape, speeding off towards the sanctity of Edward's house.

X-X-X-X-X

I wait on the porch as Edward pays for the taxi. The aftermath of the night's events have unfolded over such a long period that it is now almost dawn. The inky blue sky is littered with shards of orange light as the sun begins to rise behind Edward's house and over the orchard. The birds are beginning to wake and the first few notes of the morning chorus can be heard in the distance.

In the ever increasing light, I peer to the left of the porch and look at the broken front window. Along with my broken wrist it is further evidence of the night's events. Confirmation that it wasn't all just a horrific dream. _I really am free of him now. _

It is no longer raining, but I dread to think of the damage the smashed hole combined with the elements have done to the interior of Edward's home. Hopefully nothing too sentimental has been damaged and it can all be replaced. His insurance should cover something like this. I roll my eyes at my pragmatic thoughts.

My eyes are involuntarily drawn to look across to my and James' house. I can see that a number of lights remain on. The door is shut, but I don't know if it is locked; I should really go and check. I'm just so tired I don't think I could face going over there. _Certainly not alone - Edward will have to come too._

Who knows what possible things James got up to in the gap of hours before he came over to Edward's house. I shiver and turn to see what Edward is doing.

He's talking good naturedly to the taxi driver as he pays up and hands over what looks to be a substantial tip. I know Edward is wealthy, but sometimes I forget how much money a multi-award winning, internationally renowned author must be capable of earning. I couldn't put a figure on it, but I'm guessing it's substantially more than a Personal Assistant to a plastics saleswoman.

My face clouds over as I am reminded of the money in the joint account. _Surely some of it must belong to me? Otherwise why have it in a joint account? _

"You ok?" The sound of Edward's voice makes me jump. I was so lost in my thoughts I didn't even realise he had come to stand next to me.

"Yeah," I answer as my eyes remain fixed on my matrimonial residence.

"Suppose I'm going to have to go over there at some point."

"You know you can stay with me as long as you want. Just because James isn't here now, doesn't mean you have to stay there on your own. I mean of course if you want to go there you can. You don't have to stay here either." Edward rambles.

When I turn to look at him, he looks at me bashfully from under his eyelids. Running a hand through his hair he quickly recovers.

"I mean you're free to come and go as you please." He shrugs.

I mouth the word 'thanks' and reach out for his hand, giving it a squeeze. He's so kind, it's such a refreshing change, I feel myself trusting him more and more.

"Anytime, now let's get you inside."

He unlocks the door and holds it open for me, I duck under his arm and brush past him. My nostrils are filled with the strong delicious smell of him. Even after a night like we've had he still manages to smell so appetising. It's comforting, a sort of constant after an evening of uncertainty.

I head straight to the front room to see how much damage James has done. I pause in the doorway surveying the scene. The offending rock is nowhere to be seen, but splinters of glass and white powder are covering the floor and the top of the Steinway. The murky white powder on the piano reveals a series of fingerprints that look to be both old and new. Thankfully the fallboard and the lid were down, so the piano escaped any severe damage.

A pool of water rests in the middle of the wingback chair and it is beginning to stain the green leather, turning it white around the edges as it dries out.

I can feel Edward standing closely behind me, body heat radiating off of him.

"Where's the rock?" I enquire without turning round.

"The police came by while we were at the hospital waiting for your x-ray. They took photos of everything and dusted for prints."

I hear the thud of him placing the things on the floor, his hands come to rest on my shoulders before rubbing up and down my arms comfortingly.

"Edward, I'm so sorry about your things. The damage you've been left with because of me..." I stop unable to continue, feeling tears forming. I sniff quietly.

He wraps his arms around me. I lean my back against his chest and he tucks my head under his chin.

"They're just things, Bella. Things you can replace, people you can't. I'm just pleased you're safe and here with me now." He squeezes me gently.

"Thank you Edward, thank you so much for saving me." I tremble in his arms and cry softly.

"I didn't save you Bella. I just helped you believe that you could save yourself."

X-X-X-X-X

I wrap my fingers around the steaming mug of tea and lift it to my lips. Sipping the hot liquid instantly calms me.

"Are you sure I can't make you something to eat?" He frowns at me, concern written all over his face as he leans against the worktop, arms crossed, and legs crossed at the ankles.

"Honestly Edward, I think I'm too tired to eat. A cup of tea and some rest is all I really want at the moment." I nod in an effort to reassure him.

I know I should really get a shower. I reach my hand up to my hair. It feels grimy from the rain of earlier. It's just I can't face it right now, not with the cast as well.

I drain my cup of tea, drinking it while the liquid is still entirely too hot, burning my tongue slightly in the process. I rise tiredly from the table making my way to the sink to rinse my cup. _Force of habit I guess._

Edward lurches forward, taking the item from my hand.

"Let me do that, please. Let me take care of you." He pleads with me.

I nod and take a step back. I find being cared for like this is quite unnerving. Almost like if I get comfortable with his kindly treatment, someone will come in and pull the rug out from under me. He stands at the sink with his back to me and begins speaking.

"When I think of how I walked out on you, Bella, I feel so sick with guilt. I hate myself for leaving you the way I did." His shoulders tense. I open my mouth to speak, but he carries on.

"Despite all of that though, I want you to know that I'm not doing any of this out of a sense of guilt. I genuinely want to be there for you Bella. I want to look after you, to protect you." He clears his throat awkwardly, as if embarrassed by his admission.

I don't know what to say; there aren't any words. No one has said they want to take care of me except my mother. I walk to him and place a soft kiss between his shoulder-blades. I watch as his shoulders fall and the tension in his back dissolves. I wrap my arms around his waist and press the side of my face into his back.

"Edward, can we please go to sleep now? I'm so very tired and I just want you to hold me." I step back from him and look at the ground, petrified that he might reject me.

"Of course, if that's what you want, then that's what we'll do." He places a hand under my chin and lifts my head so that I am forced to look him in the eye. He smiles warmly and taking my hand in his, he leads me up the stairs.

As we enter his bedroom, I see the crumpled bed sheets of earlier. Early morning sunlight peeks through the gaps in the curtains, bathing the room in a soft hazy light.

I pick at my hospital rental clothes before looking at Edward.

"I don't suppose you have something I could sleep in? I'm afraid the last lot got a bit ruined." I blush.

He nods and crosses the room to his wardrobe. He takes something off a hanger and holds it up to me. It's a cotton dress-shirt.

"Will this do? I don't really have anything else that will fit you."

I nod; the thought of the cool cotton on my bare skin sounds blissful. I reach out a hand and he passes the shirt to me.

"I'll just be right back." I motion to the en-suite and spin on my heel.

Stepping into the bathroom I close the door firmly behind me and peel off the horrid clothes I have been forced to wear under the circumstances. I deposit them in the wicker laundry basket. Slipping the shirt over my head, it falls softly to the tops of my thighs, gliding past my knickers, covering my bottom. I undo the cuffs and roll the sleeves back, up to my elbows. I grab my hair and plait it roughly. I have nothing to secure the end, but it's out of my face; a few tendrils hang loose.

Turning on the tap, I wait for the water to warm up before cupping my good hand and awkwardly splashing some water on my face. It feels wonderful and reaching for one of the fluffy towels I pat my face dry. I return the towel, ensuring the room looks exactly the same as it did upon entering.

Some things just feel so deeply ingrained, as though Edward is just a wolf in sheep's clothing. I trust him, but I just worry that he might be waiting for me to fail. I have been so conditioned by James and my Father that I have no idea whether all men are like that. My heart yearns to believe that Edward is completely different from James.

I open the door and my eyes wander to the bed, Edward is already there, sitting up on some pillows. His chest is bare and his hair is scruffy like he's been running his fingers through it nervously. He's holding a book and looks to be skimming the text casually. I cross the room self-consciously, my head down, eyes watching my feet as I make my way to the vacant side of the bed.

Edward looks up at me and raises his eyebrows before smiling at me, his eyes twinkling. Placing the book on the small table next to his bed, he turns off the small table lamp. The room is bathed in a dusky light. He peels back the covers for me and pats the empty space next to him, smiling at me comfortingly.

I climb into the bed timidly and sigh as my head rests against the cool pillow. Every muscle in my body relaxes. The sheets and pillows smell of Edward, it's divine. He slides down in the bed and rolls onto his side.

I mimic his movements so we lie facing each other. I blink lazily staring into his bottle-green eyes. _God he's beautiful. _He reaches a hand up to my face and grazes his knuckles along my cheekbone before fingering my plait. He grabs the end of my hair and runs it along my neck, tickling me. I giggle childishly and a smile lights up his face.

He lets my hair go and brushes it off my shoulder. He moves his hand, sliding it down my arm to rest on my hips. I sigh happily at the contact and inch closer to him. He doesn't move away. I crave the comfort of him holding me. It's the only time I ever truly feel safe, the physical connection makes me feel a tiny bit more resilient.

"You look much better in that shirt than I ever could." He smiles appreciatively.

His warm breath fans out over my face. I blush and smile my thanks. Lifting my left-hand I run my fingers through his hair, grazing the scalp lightly with my short nails and twiddling the ends of the strands. He closes his eyes and smiles languidly; he looks so content. _I make him feel like that._

I lean in closer, combing my fingers through his hair in what I hope is a calming motion. I have such a strong urge to kiss him. After the traumatic events of today, I just want to feel something good. Something real. I move my face ever closer to him, his eyelids flutter but remain closed. His lips are parted slightly as he exhales through his mouth.

Tentatively I softly press my lips to his and kiss him. He doesn't pull away and this boosts my confidence. I daringly lick his lips with the tip of my tongue. He opens his mouth and I deepen the kiss. My fingers take on a mind of their own and they grab a fistful of his hair, my restricted hand twitches sullenly, feeling left out.

Edward kisses me back as he slides a hand between my waist and the bed, his other arm wrapping round me. I shift my body closer so that I am pressed up again him. My mind switches off and I pour all of my pain, desire and need to seek comfort into the kiss. I just want to be repaired, looked after and nurtured. _Please do that, for me Edward!_

His hands come to my hips and slide up under the fabric of my shirt. Exploring my skin, his thumbs rub just below my ribcage, resting on my waist. He doesn't go any further, his hands content as he squeezes gently applying pressure to my lower back as we are pressed closely together.

I pull away from his lips and place soft open-mouthed kisses on his jaw, down his neck and over his clavicles, nuzzling him between caresses.

"Bella...please..." He moans and I continue to kiss him. My hands press lightly on his chest, trying not to irritate him or damage the mood with my cast.

"Bella, please...we can't..." Ignoring him, I slide my hands down his chest, my fingers running along the waistband of his pyjamas. _Surely he doesn't really want me to stop. It feels so good and it's the least he deserves for everything he has done for me. I need this, I need to wipe away all of the hurt. _

"Bella, please, stop. It's wrong. I can't let you do this."

His hand come to my shoulders and he gently but forcefully pushes me away. He sits up in the bed and puts some distance between us, rubs his hand over his face, exhaling loudly. I close my eyes holding back tears, my breathing is ragged. _He doesn't want me?_

"Please believe me, Bella, it's not that I didn't enjoy that. But not like this. It's wrong, you've been through a horrifying ordeal. I would never want something as wonderful as this exchange between us, to be born from something as awful as the things that happened to you today."

He grasps my chin and turns my face gently, my eyes flutter open and they're swimming with tears. I nod miserably.

"I'm doing this for both of us. I understand that you've been through something so traumatic and that you are craving some comfort, but I couldn't forgive myself If I took advantage of you in that way." He smiles softly.

"Please Bella, you understand don't you? Not now, not like this."

I bite my lip and nod. I don't think I can speak at the moment; I feel like such a fool. Why do I keep throwing myself at him?

He runs his hands gently down the side of my face and cups my cheeks in his hands. The tears begin to fall and using his thumbs he wipes them away.

"I just feel so empty Edward. So lonely and broken..." I choke and sniff unattractively.

"I-I just want to be appreciated. Not overlooked and ignored."

He pulls me into a hug and wraps his arms around me as I bury my head in his chest.

"Oh Bella, you are appreciated and for so many reasons. But you must admit we both have so many things to address first." He strokes my back soothingly as I nod.

"We'll get through it, though, and if after learning about all of my skeletons, you're still interested..." he trails off, playing with the collar of the shirt I'm wearing.

"Of course I'll still be interested." I whisper into his chest feeling myself smile at his attempt at humour.

"Then we'll have this discussion again when we're further down the road." He continues to stroke his hand slowly up and down my back. It's so soothing; I fall into a deep much-needed slumber.

**A/n: I know, I know...Edward and his damn honourable intentions, but you and Bella with both thank me for it in the long run! Now some news, I am going away for 5 days on holiday. So the next update is more than likely going to be at least 3 weeks away as I won't be able to get to a computer. Just wanted to give you all a heads-up. **

**Please leave a review letting me know what you think, I read them all and I love hearing what you think about this and also how you found out about the story. Cream teas all round for reviewers this time and maybe some clotted cream fudge - I am experiencing a sweet tooth for a change!  
**

**Thanks, Flubbles x**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/n: Hello all! Well it is practically three weeks on the button since my last update. Thank you very much for your patience and all of your reviews and well wishes for my time away. I'm sorry I don't reply to more reviews, I try my best and I love reading each and every one of them. **

**Thanks as always to the lovely xoEMC for her assistance with this chapter and also to the equally lovely JAustenlover. **

**Enjoy Flubbles x**

Chapter 26

"_Come on, Isabella! People are waiting. Don't you dare let me down!" Charlie barks at me, his face thunderous. _

_I stare at him, taking in his appearance. What the..? _

_He's sporting a black academic gown topped off with a mortarboard. A pair of half-moon glasses rest on the end of his nose. He glares at me disparagingly; his eyes narrow and his lips twist into a scowl. For every word he speaks, he thrashes a cane down hard against his open palm. The action makes me flinch. I tremble with fear, feeling like a little girl again. _

_I look around me, gauging my surroundings. I'm standing at the front of a classroom. On the wall there is a blackboard; a series of sentences are scrawled across it in jumbled text. Some words appear to be missing from the sentences. I stare at them in confusion, none of it making any sense to me. _

_ThE qUIck BRown FOX jUmPS 0V3R THE _ dOg_

_thE rAIn iN sPAIN fALls maiNly on THE __

_lOREM 09-21-44 IPsUM d0l0r sit amet 60877752_

"_What's the matter, Isabella? Cat got your tongue?" _

_My head snaps to the right, my eyes following the direction of the voice. It's James! He's lounging on a chair behind an old-fashioned school desk. His legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. _

_He's donned a shirt and tie, braces, grey schoolboy shorts and a cloth cap. I watch as he stretches an elastic band between his thumb and forefinger. Aiming at me he shoots and chuckles as it connects with my leg. I yelp in pain, reaching a hand down to rub the spot he struck. _

"_Really James, what did you ever see in her? I'll give you a clue sweetheart, the missing words are LAZY and PLAIN!" _

_Victoria appears in a theatrical puff of smoke. Her red hair is piled high on her head. She's dressed up like a burlesque dancer, in a black corset and knickers with fishnet stockings. Suspenders and a pair of treacherously high patent platform heels complete the ensemble._

_She has a cigarette in a holder in one hand, giving her an air of Cruella Deville. Taking a long drag she blows the acrid smoke right in my face. My throat constricts I try to cough, feeling the familiar sting of tears. She sniggers at my obvious discomfort and takes up a position behind James, massaging his shoulders, while the cigarette dangles precariously from her lips. _

"_Pathetic that's exactly what she is! Oh, and have you tasted her putrid cooking? I wouldn't feed it to my dog!"_

_Ethel has now come to join the Bella bashing party and she is dressed as a cupcake; a cherry acting as a hat atop her head. She looks me up and down disdainfully before waddling across to join James and Victoria. _

_I try to respond to their cruel taunts, but when I speak my voice is muffled. My eyebrows furrow in confusion. Suddenly the room is transformed into a hall of mirrors and I can see a variety of distorted views of myself from every unflattering angle. I take one look at my reflection and scream from the top of my lungs, but no sound comes out. _

_My hands fly to my mouth as I continue to scream hysterically. _

_Thick, black, ugly stitches run through both my lips. My mouth has been sewn shut. _

_A cone-shaped hat with a big red D on it sits on my head. Fat tears trickle down my cheeks as I assess the rest of my appearance. I'm dressed up like a rag-doll: my hair in bunches; red circles of rouge painted on my cheeks. I'm wearing a bright blue dungaree dress, polished mary-janes and white socks pulled up to my knees. _

_My arms and legs begin to move by themselves. I look down at them and realise there are strings coming from me. I am a marionette! I battle and buck against the strings; I strain on them trying to pull free. I breathe heavily through my nose, feeling light-headed from the lack of oxygen._

_I look up to see James controlling my strings. He makes me dance whilst he and Victoria snigger to themselves. _

"_Please my sweet, sweet Bella. You can do it, I know you can. Just believe in yourself."_

_The kind voice catches me off guard. _

_Even though it's been so long since I heard it, I recognise it immediately. I spin awkwardly and tangle myself in my mess of strings. My mother stands a little way off from me, just out of reach. She's fuzzy around the edges and translucent. There is an ethereal quality about her. She looks so young and beautiful just like when I was a child. Her hands are clasped together and she has a wide smile on her face as she nods her head supportively. _

_I try to run to her, but I cannot move my legs. She blows a kiss and waves as she fades away. I call out to her, trying to get her stay, yet nothing comes out but a strangled whimper._

"_Miss Swan, I got this for you."_

_Frantically, I look away from my Mother's fading form and see Edward standing across from me. His arm is outstretched and he's holding a bright green pear in the palm of his hand. He's wearing the same uniform as James. His unruly hair has been patted down and combed into a neat side parting. His clothing is pristine, complete with grey socks pulled up to his knees; his shoes are so polished you could see your face in them. _

_At once they all begin to chant my name louder and louder!_

_I try to press my hands to my ears to block out their voices, but I can't move them. I open my mouth to scream, but I can't do that either._

_Everything goes black and I feel myself falling. A cold wind whipping my hair and clothes up around me. _

I awake with a jolt like I've just landed in the bed. I'm dripping with sweat and I spit out a mouthful of pillow. My arms are pinned to my sides by the sheets. I must've been tossing and turning so much I wrapped myself up in the linen. My heart hammers against my ribcage; the sound reverberating loudly in my ears. _What the hell was that dream about?_

Feeling shaken I extricate myself from the covers and swipe a hand across my brow. Every muscle feels tense and exhausted like I've run a marathon. I run my fingers over my lips and open my mouth as wide as possible just to be sure it was a dream.

Satisfied, I roll over in the bed. Edward's side is vacant. I shuffle over and reach my hand out. Running my fingers along the sheet, I feel it's cold. _Hmm he's been up a while._ I look at the bedside clock and see that it is 2.30pm. _I've been asleep for an age! _

I sit up in bed and stretch awkwardly. My cast feels unnaturally heavy as I raise my arms above my head. I close my eyes and yawn loudly. The sound of Edward clearing his throat announces his entrance. I blush and lower my arms. Suddenly feeling self conscious I readjust the shirt I'm wearing and try to smooth down my unruly hair.

He's standing in the entrance to the room wearing just his pyjama bottoms and a lazy smile. His hands are holding a breakfast tray. I cannot fully see the contents from where he is standing, but I can see steam wafting from it. My mouth waters in anticipation and my stomach gives a little rumble of hunger.

"Hello, sleepy-head." He smiles at me and crosses the room in three quick steps, making his way towards the bed.

"Why didn't you wake me earlier?" I shake my head at him, smiling gratefully as I sit up further in the bed.

He sets the tray down on my lap and kisses me on the top of my head. My cheeks flush and I revel in the attention. _Will I ever get used to his tender ways? _Only my Mother showered me with this much affection.

Turning, he opens the curtains. The springtime sun floods the room and he reaches to open the window a crack. It has the positive effect of letting in some fresh air in the form of a gentle breeze, along with the sound of birdsong.

"You were out like a light. It seemed a shame to wake you. You're very cute when you sleep." He shrugs as he perches on the edge of the bed.

"Cute?" My blush deepens and I look at him shyly.

"Yes, cute. And quite the talker, with a predilection for pangrams and numbers it would seem." He winks knowingly.

"Pangrams? What on earth is a pangram?" I ask puzzled.

"The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. Ring any bells? They're used in printing as a way of displaying typeface. It's basically a sentence that contains ever letter of the alphabet." He looks at me in a slightly witheringly way, as if everyone should know that.

"Oh right! Umm I did have a strange dream, I guess that was it..." I trail off embarrassed.

"Strange? Something you want to discuss?" He cocks his head to one side an expression of concern on his face.

I shake my head and fiddle with the duvet, smoothing out the fabric. On reflection my dream seems childish and I don't want to analyse the finer points of it with him.

"Okay, as long as you're sure. You know where I am if you change your mind." He stills my hand that is fiddling with the fabric and gives the fingers a gentle squeeze.

"Yes, I'm sure. So what have we got here?" I pull my hand away and motion to the tray in my lap, desperate to change the subject.

"Ah yes, well I have prepared a culinary taste sensation for you. I hope you're hungry." He rubs his hands together with glee.

In typical Edward fashion the tray contains an assortment of miss-matched crockery. Poached eggs rest languorously on a bed of hot buttered granary toast along with a rack that's filled with yet more buttered toast. He has delicately positioned some chives on top of the eggs and a sprinkling of black pepper provides the final decoration.

A small jar is filled with water and a cutting of apple blossom from the orchard. I reach a hand out and stroke the delicate white petals.

"Fruits of our labour?" I smile at Edward and raise the jar to my nose, inhaling the scent of the flowers.

"Yes, indeed." Edward returns my smile.

Reaching for the cafetière that is also on the tray, he pushes down the plunger and pours coffee into a tea-cup and a mug. Replacing the cafetière he raises the milk jug, silently asking if I require milk. I shake my head and reaching across I place the jar of blossom on the bedside table.

"Edward this looks delicious. Thank you so much."

I watch as he lifts the tea-cup to his lips and blows on the hot liquid before taking a sip.

"You're welcome. It's no bother." Leaning back on one arm he continues to drink his coffee silently.

I reach for the tea-towel that I assume he intends for me to use as napkin and tuck it into my shirt. Lifting the fork I start to make a dent in the mountain of food. My stomach rumbles with neglect as I eat. I didn't realise how hungry I had become.

Between mouthfuls of food I drop my fork to take sips of coffee; it's made perfectly. Rich and strong, just how I like it.

"Aren't you having any, Edward?" I motion at my food with my fork as I continue eating.

"I already ate downstairs. I couldn't wait. I'll help you with the toast, though." He reaches across and swipes a piece of toast.

I finish my food. Placing my cutlery on the plate, I move the tray so it rests next to me. I rub my stomach appreciatively and sigh in contentment.

"How are you feeling?" Edwards face softens as he waits for my answer. I take a sip of my coffee and use it as an opportunity to mull over his question.

"Honestly?" I ask.

He nods.

"Relieved that I'm finally free of James, but terrified of what the future now holds."

"I guess that's to be expected. The last 48 hours have been pretty exceptional." He reaches across and pats me on the knee.

"Do you have any idea what you're going to do? About the house and everything? I'm sorry to ask. I don't want to upset you." He squeezes gently.

"No, it's fine. You're allowed to ask. I need to go over there and collect a few things. Long-term though...I have no idea what's going to happen. I don't ever want to live there again." I sigh.

"Would you come over there with me today? To the house I mean? Whilst James is still detained? I don't want to go there on my own."

"Of course. That's no problem whatsoever." He drains the last of his coffee and places the cup on the tray. My drink has become unappealing; the topic of conversation leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I discard it on the tray.

"I should really shower I guess." I look down at my cast wondering how on earth I'm going to manage this.

"Are you going to cope okay with your cast?" It's like he read my mind.

"Umm, I hope so. Can I give you a shout if I need a hand?" I look at him shyly.

"Of course. I'll go and freshen up in the main bathroom. Are you okay to use the en suite?" Unfazed, he rises from the bed and takes the tray with him. I nod and clamber out of bed.

X-X-X-X-X

After securing a plastic bin bag around my cast, I manage to shower one-handed, but as I step out of the bath and awkwardly wrap a towel around my frame I know there is no way that I can possibly wash my hair as well. I open the bathroom door and poke my head round the corner, peering into the bedroom. Edward is standing in front of a small mirror drying his hair, a towel is wrapped low on his hips.

I watch the muscles flexing in his back and shoulders as he rubs the towel back and forth. He's godlike. I could watch him forever. Completely unaware that I am ogling him, he drops the towel he's wearing to the ground and reaches into his underwear drawer.

I am treated to an unadulterated view of his taut buttocks. I squeak with embarrassment and cover my mouth with my hand. Desperate not to be caught out I turn to dash back into the bathroom. In my haste I trip over my own feet in typical Bella fashion. I crash into the doorframe and land in an undignified crumpled heap. I clutch my towel and broken arm to me as I try to remain as quiet as possible. A deep crimson blush creeps over my neck and cheeks.

Too late, Edward jumps as he hears me bashing around. Quickly pulling on a pair of Calvin Klein's he runs to my aid, completely unaware of the peep show he gave me.

"Bella? Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?" His face is a picture of concern.

I flush an even stronger shade of red and look down, trying to hide behind my hair as he reaches for my elbows and helps me stand to my feet. I'm in-line with his chest and I cannot tear my eyes from it.

"Umm, yes, yes I'm fine. I-I j-just wondered if you would help me...wash my hair?" My voice comes out strangled and I am completely flustered.

"Of course, are you ready now?" I raise my head to look at him and nod.

He places his hands on my shoulders and turns me so I am facing the direction of the bathroom, with a gentle nudge he guides me into the room. He strides to the bathtub and reaches for the shower head, lowering it and adjusting the taps to get the right temperature. I put the lid down on the toilet seat and sit on it watching him.

He grabs a towel and places it on the tiled floor, turning to me he reaches out a hand, which I gladly take.

"Kneel on the towels so you don't get cold or uncomfortable." He points to the spot and I kneel obligingly.

Once I am settled he kneels just off to my right-hand side. His hands ghost along my bare shoulders as he softly pulls my hair to one side, gathering it up over my right-shoulder. With outstretched fingers, he gently but firmly presses his hand to the nape of my next, silently requesting that I bend my head.

I comply as he delicately rakes my hair forward, dampening it at the tips and working up to the roots. The warm water feels so good against my scalp; an appreciative shivers runs down my spine.

"Too cold?"

"No, the temperature's perfect. It's divine." I marvel at how precise he is, cupping the water at the sides of my head so it doesn't go over my face or in my ears. He turns off the water and I listen as a plastic bottle is opened and the soapy shampoo is squeezed into his hands. I wait patiently as strong fingers find their way into my hair, massaging my scalp.

The masculine scent of the shampoo is delightful. Goose bumps surface all over my body as my eyelids flutter closed and I hum with contentment. The water is turned on again, startling me. He gently rinses the suds from my hair. His proximity is intoxicating; every now and then he'll make contact. A bare chest against my bare back when he rinses; an arm brushing against mine; not to mention the calming feeling of his breath on my neck.

When I think he may have finished, I hear him reach for another bottle. Conditioner? _What bliss._

The cool liquid is spread throughout my hair. He massages much more deeply this time and for a matter of minutes. I feel myself becoming drowsy at his touch; it's so relaxing. A final rinse, a quick squeeze of my long locks to remove excess water and a thick towel wraps itself around my head. I lift my hand to readjust the towel around my body. As I begin to rise, I feel Edward's damp hands at my back.

I freeze with shock as I feel his hand push my towel down lower, exposing more of my back. I want to run from the room; to cover myself up so he doesn't have to look at the ugly scars. I find myself frozen to the spot, unable to move. I hold my breath and wait for him to ask.

No words come and when I decide to take it upon myself to break the silence, I feel his warm breath float over the skin of my back. His lips slowly kiss against one of the scars and I sigh forlornly.

"Oh Bella." He speaks only millimetres from my skin, his lips brushing against me as his index finger traces the marks. He places one more kiss at the nape of my exposed neck before repositioning the towel and patting me gently on the back. I sit for a few seconds longer before rising to look at him.

"T-thank you," I speak quietly.

"Did he do all of that to you?" His voice is full of control. The distress apparent in his eyes.

"N-not all of them..." I clear my throat anxiously.

"Some of them are from my Father." I shrug my shoulders despondently. He gathers me up in his arms and clutches me to him. I bury my face into his chest and sigh.

"All of that ends now. You don't need to be frightened any more, do you hear me?" His voice is so full of conviction.

"Do you promise, Edward?" I look up at him, wide-eyed and hopeful.

"Yes."

"Say it..." My voice comes out in a whisper.

"I promise I won't let anyone else hurt you ever again."

X-X-X-X-X

Edward bangs the final nail into the wood. The boarded-up window now makes the room darker than usual.

"The insurance said a glazier should be here in a day or two. We'll have to make do until then." He places the tools back in the tool box and makes his way into the kitchen.

"I'm so sorry, Edward." I trail after him.

"We've been through this. You have nothing to apologise for." His voice is firm.

"I know, I just can't help but feel responsible." I play with the hem of Edward's jumper that I'm wearing. _Which_ _reminds me I need to go and collect some of my things. _

"Well you shouldn't." His voice is final, end of discussion. He wanders through the kitchen and out to the garden to put his tools away in his beloved shed.

When he returns to the room he rubs his hands together purposefully.

"So, what now?" He directs all of his attention at me.

"Well...I wondered if we could go to the house to collect some clothes and things?"

"Of course. If you're sure?"

"I guess it makes sense to go sooner while James isn't around. You don't mind do you? I just don't think I can go on my own. Especially if he has damaged any of my things." I wring my hands together, nervous of what I might find.

"Hey, of course I don't mind. Shall we go now?" He nods purposefully.

"It's as good a time as any I guess."

"Okay, well you lead the way."

Reluctantly, I schlep to the front of the house, making a mental-list of all the things I need to collect; clothes, the manuscript, the gifts from Edward, anything of my Mother's. I feel Edward's presence behind me. His hand slips into mine and squeezes gently and I turn to look over my shoulder. He smiles reassuringly and motions for me to continue.

I smile back at him meekly and we make our way to the house. Neither of us speaking as we walk up the path. I feel apprehensive. Fear bubbles up in my chest as I let go of Edward's hand and push the door open. It's on the latch and it creaks open. It's like a clichéd scene from a horror film where you will the heroine not to open the door.

The eerie calm of the sight that greets me is unnerving. Everything is just as it should be in the hall. I was expecting debris and re-positioned furniture. Not so, and it unsettles me. The hair on the back of my neck bristles as I step over the threshold. I know he has done something. If the hall is like this, then it means he has been selective in his destruction.

Edward peers over my shoulder, trying to assess the damage, as I stand in the doorway blocking his view.

"Is it safe to go in?"

"I-I think so."

I make my way into the house and decide to go upstairs first. The manuscript and some clothes are the first thing on my list.

"Upstairs first I think. I want to get my things together." I make my way up a couple of steps before turning to see Edward shutting the door and waiting in the hallway.

"Are you coming?" I look at him, smiling softly.

"I wasn't sure what you wanted. If that's okay?" He looks nervous.

"Of course it's okay. I want you to come with me." I hold out my hand for him. He takes it and we make our way upstairs together.

I gently nudge open the door to our bedroom. It looks exactly the same as I left it. The bedspread smoothed out over the bed; the curtains open and all items in their rightful places.

We keep a suitcase on the top of the wardrobe. I ask Edward to get it down for me while I gather my clothing. I smile when I come across the shift dress I wore for our meal in Oxford, that evening was a diamond in the rough. I feel tingly all over just thinking about that night. I have to take this with me.

Edward kindly opens the suitcase and lays it on the bed. I gently place the items of clothing in it. I watch him as he looks at the dress. He reaches a hand out to stroke the silky fabric.

"You looked so beautiful that night." He murmurs so quietly I barely hear him.

"Thank you." My response equally quiet as I make my way to my chest of drawers. I step on something small and it feels hard beneath my shoes despite the softness of the carpet. I bend down to retrieve it and recognise it immediately.

"No!" I call out, causing Edward to jump.

As I look around I see a scattering of pearls littered around the carpet. _My mother's pearls. _I kneel and scrabble around with my one hand trying to pick them all up.

"Bella, what is it?" Edward's voice is full of concern.

"My Mother's necklace, he destroyed it, Edward." I choke on my words as I gather all of the pearls in sight. He comes to join me and helps me collect them all up. Tears fall silently down my face, landing on the carpet. He's destroyed so many of the few things I had left of her.

Taking the pearls from my hand, Edward wraps an arm round my shoulders as I sniff loudly.

"We'll get this fixed, just like new. You'll never know anything happened to it." He squeezes my shoulder and places all of the pearls in his jeans pocket. Rising he takes my elbow and helps me stand.

"I hate him, Edward. Every part of me despises him." I wipe my nose on my arm.

"You should hate him. I hate him. I want to destroy him for what he put you through." He shakes his head sadly.

"Let's just get this done and get out of here. I can feel him in everything, like he's watching me." I shudder and grab my under garments, some t-shirts from a drawer and some toiletries, depositing them in the suitcase. Throwing in my loafers and my patent ballerinas, I make an attempt to close the suitcase.

"Here, let me. Are you sure that's everything? You certainly pack light." He jokes, ever trying to lighten the mood.

"There's very little I want to take from here, plus I have hardly any clothes. So that makes it easier." I shrug dejectedly and make my way out of the room. Edward follows me as I enter the spare room.

"I need your help in here. Can you help me move this chest?" He looks at me like I've gone mad, but helps me obligingly nonetheless.

"What on earth do you need to move this for?" He grunts as he shifts the heavy object practically on his own. I'm not of much help.

"When you live with a husband like mine Edward, you get very good at hiding things." My voice takes on a hard edge as I kneel on the floor and peel back the rug and feel around with my fingernails to pull up the loose floorboard. My heart skips a beat when I see that my most treasured items are safe.

I smile and look up at Edward He stares down at me with his mouth hanging open as he recognises the objects.

"Bella, if I knew you had to hide these things I never would've given them to you. I'm so sorry I put you in this position." He looks mortified.

"Nonsense." I wave my hand.

"I loved receiving every one of these things, Edward. You don't understand how much pleasure they gave me." I smile at him and begin to retrieve the items; the Mont Blanc pen; the now empty box from the Charbonnel et Walker chocolates; the mug; all of the original gift-wrap and ribbons; and finally, the manuscript. Edward opens the suitcase and I place the items in it, giving the manuscript a final hug before placing it inside.

"This is so fucking wrong. You have to tell the Police about how he treated you Bella. That pathetic excuse for a man needs to go to prison for a very long time. He makes me sick. No one should have to live like you have." Edward rises and kicks the skirting board in anger.

"God he makes my blood boil. Give me 5 minutes with the arsehole. I'd tear him limb from limb. Limb from fucking limb!" He shakes with rage and breathes heavily.

"There's been enough fighting, Edward. I just want to put him and all of this behind me." I spread my arms wide to indicate the whole house.

"I cannot believe how pathetic I've been. I don't know why I put up with it for so long. He made me feel so weak, so insecure. I believed all of his poisonous words. I've been a bloody fool. It's me you should be angry with, because I know I am." I speak with such conviction. He turns to look at me, slowly wrapping his arms around me.

"I don't ever want to hear you putting yourself down like that again. I don't think you're weak or pathetic. It takes someone very strong to come out the other side of this unscathed like you have done and continue to do. I'm proud of this new found Bella and I hope I get to spend a lot of time with her." He holds my head as his speaks, his fingers spreading through the hair that he so tenderly washed.

"Thank you, truly. It means so much to hear you say that." I kiss the inside of his wrist.

"Let's just check out downstairs and get the hell out of here. I'm done with him and with this house. He's dead to me, Edward." I shiver involuntarily and we disentangle ourselves.

Gathering up the suitcase Edward makes his way down the stairs first. I take one last look around the room not caring that the chest now lies in the middle of it, exposing my hiding space. I don't think I'll miss a thing from the house. _I cannot recall a single happy memory that involves my husband in this house. _

I descend the stairs as Edward places the suitcase next to the door. He waits patiently, his face passive as I look around warily. I slowly make my way into the front room. The alcohol cabinet has been left open; an assortment of bottles have been rifled through. I notice the lid is off one of the bottles.

It's one of the many expensive single malt whiskeys that belonged to my Father. I shudder at the thought of James drinking it; murderous thoughts going through his head as plotted his next course of action.

I stand on the spot turning my head. I survey the room almost clinically as though looking at it through an outsider's eyes. The television has been pushed over; the ancient set is smashed. I never cared for it anyway. I didn't have time to sit and watch TV; vegetating on the sofa was James forte.

I glance over to the shelves that hold the photograph albums. There is a gap; one is missing. I look around and see it lying on the floor next to his arm chair. I recognise it instantly. It's the album from my time at university. It's lying open, facing down so I walk over to it and lift it up to see which page it's on.

It's open at the last page and the final sleeve is empty. Hmm, that's strange. I'm sure I filled the album. I start to close it when I notice a bulge inside the cover, fiddling with a hole in the seam I rip the cover and see that something has been folded up and tucked in there.

I fish it out awkwardly. Edward is completely forgotten as I am engrossed in the task at hand. I remember now. There was a final photograph in the album; I'm not going completely mad. I open out the photo clumsily while trying not to drop the album.

I let out a gasp when I see the photograph. The album crashes to the floor.

"Bella, what is it?" Edward's voice is distant, as my ears ring and my head spins.

I feel sick. Nausea rolls off me in waves as I stare at the offending image unable to tear my eyes away. It's a picture of me at graduation with James and my parents; we had just got engaged. The picture is cracked and ragged from where it has been folded and unfolded numerous times.

Tears flood my eyes as my shaking hand tries to hold the picture steady. The image itself isn't offensive, it's more what has been done to it. Thick angry red pen marks have been drawn through both of my parent's faces, effectively crossing them out. Above my head there is a pound sign and a circle around my face.

"Bella, please will you talk to me?" Edward's voice breaks through the ringing in my ears.

The photo flutters from my hand and falls to the ground. I cover my mouth with my hand and run to the kitchen, fully intending to be sick. My mind is swimming.

The kitchen, however, is another room he has decided to renovate. It has been transformed into some form of obstacle course. Cupboards and drawers are all open, their contents litter the floor. The table and chairs have been scattered around the room haphazardly.

I stop in my tracks, surveying the damage done to quite possibly my favourite room of the house. I sob; nausea is replaced by anger and despair. So many of my treasured items lay broken on the floor; expensive ingredients and recipes I have collected over the years stare up at me._ All ruined!_

Edward runs into the room. I turn to look at him, tears stain my cheeks.

"Oh Bella, I'm so sorry." He holds open his arms to me.

My lips tremble and I step into his arms.

"Did you see the photo, Edward? It was about money. All he wanted was money." I fall apart in his arms.

"Yes, I saw it, I saw it." He rubs my back soothingly.

"We d-didn't have any m-money. My Mother and Father were p-practically penniless when they died. I don't understand it." I stumble over my words and my breathing is panicked. I feel like I've been punched in the stomach.

"You're certain? There was nothing he could've got his hands on?" Edward's voice is full of contempt.

"There wasn't any money. I would've been told when they died. There's no one else it would've gone to." I shake my head with conviction.

_Unless..._

I break away sharply from Edward, leaving him standing in the middle of the room stunned. I run to the utility room as quickly as I can through the scattered debris. I flip on the light in the windowless room, my eyes scouring the room for his suit jacket that contains the bank statement.

"Bella? What is it?" Edward's voice is distant as my head spins and I almost pass out.

I see the jacket resting on the washing machine where I left it. Relief floods through me and my heartbeat quickens in anticipation. I reach for the garment and check the pocket. _Where's the statement? _

I check all of the other pockets. I shake the jacket forcefully. I turn it inside out. I hysterically check every inch of it, just stopping short of tearing out the lining. _It's gone, the statement has gone. _My only chance of unravelling this mystery has disappeared.

**A/n: Oh no! What now? Next update in 2-3 weeks. Thanks all. Please review if you have time! Flubbles x**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/n: Hello All! I'm back with another chapter. Happy Easter and Passover to any of my readers who celebrate these holidays.**

**Raizie7 I've included something in this chapter that you're always asking me for – hope you enjoy it!**

**Thanks as ever to the lovely xoEMC for working her magic with this chapter and for JAustenLover for her thought provoking and helpful emails. Couldn't do it without either of you!  
**

**Enjoy all! Flubbles xx**

Chapter 27

The police have just left; their discarded coffee cups sit on the small table next to me. The cushions on the wicker sofa still have the depression marks of recently vacated occupants. James has been charged and released on bail. He isn't deemed a threat to society at large so he's free to roam the streets.

A court injunction is in place to stop him coming into contact with me. Edward is livid; I am scared. As soon as he shuts the front door on the police, he informs me that he has some things he needs to finish in the orchard. Observing him from the conservatory, I actually think he has some emotions he needs to get out of his system. He's viciously hacking back a hedge to within an inch of its life. I don't believe it even needed a trim.

_I mull over the events that have just transpired with the police. I don't believe that we really got anywhere. _

We show the dreadful photograph to the police. Their annoyance at the possibility of new evidence creating further work for them is tangible. They belittle me with their questions.

"_Do you know for certain that Mr Smith defaced the photograph in question?" _

"_Do you know when the photograph was defaced?" _

"_Did you deface the photograph?"_

"_Sadly Mrs Smith, it's just your word against his. This photograph isn't really proof of anything." _

Their indifference to my plight is vexing. I notify them of the damage James did to the house; they shake their heads and tut disapprovingly as though I am referring to a child spilling a glass of red wine on a white wool carpet. They inform me they are well aware and have already been to photograph it. Under Edward's supportive presence I give them details of the unconventional structure of my relationship with James. Impassively, they make brief notes and mention that I should really discuss it all with my solicitor.

At the mention of a legal representative, I turn to Edward. He squeezes my hand and tells me that it's been taken care of. My solicitor is Felix Toscana, a friend of Edward's family. Apparently Mr Toscana Senior used to tailor Carlisle's suits. I'm told he's a quiet yet formidable man with a proven track record. I've yet to meet him, but it seems this will soon be rectified. His office is in Woodstock.

The sound of Edward wrestling with the bush diverts my thoughts from our recent police visit and back to the present. I watch forlornly as he uses physical exertion to process his anger. I feel helpless. I respect his request to be left alone, but I have an overwhelming desire to pluck the tools from his hands, drop them to the ground and wrap his arms around me. Perhaps I'll leave him a little while longer and then I'll take him a glass of water to cool him down.

I find myself day-dreaming, my mind drifting onto more pleasant topics. Maybe Edward and I can visit Blenheim Palace when meet with Felix Toscana. Edward did promise. He doesn't seem like the sort of person to break his promises.

This thought makes me smile and my heart lifts a little. Is this to be my future? _The freedom to make plans, to be able to rely on another individual, to lie in late on weekends, to have pizza for breakfast and ice-cream for dinner, to let the laundry pile up, to go for a mid-week drink with friends, to buy myself new clothes and books, to travel, to go out to work... TO TEACH!_

I wriggle in my chair with excitement and my smile widens. Life's what you make it and the world truly is my oyster now. I can do practically anything, and when I'm old and looking back on my life, I want this separation from James to be like a re-birth; to live without regrets.

I know there is still much to resolve, but the limitless possibilities of what my life can now become gives me new vigour with which to work through the difficult times that lay ahead of me. As I think of this my face clouds over, my smile slipping. My thoughts switch to the photograph I found and the statement I failed to find. The photograph lies upside down on the table, but I can see the raised pen marks pushing through.

How long ago did he deface the photograph?

Before my parents died?

After?

I was present for the reading of the Will. Granted. I was an emotional mess, but I'm positive there wasn't any inheritance. Swan Accountancy Ltd had folded, my parents house had a secured loan taken out on it. The property was repossessed to pay off creditors; it sold at auction for a rock-bottom price, well below the asking amount for a house in the affluent leafy suburb I grew up in.

I hated my childhood home, the selling of it did not bother me. I took a few items of my Mother's, including the photograph albums and for some unexplained reason that damn wardrobe that James was so insistent about keeping.

James handled the receivers and the winding down of my Father's company. I couldn't face the thought of making any of my Father's employees redundant; it was such a close-knit firm that they were like an extended family. Sending them home to their loved ones penniless and out of work would have been heart-breaking for me.

It further transpired that my Father was struggling to balance their personal accounts too. Life insurance payments were defaulted on, utility bills had piled up and credit cards were revoked. James kept me abreast of all the details, but I was too consumed by grief to really understand the severity of the situation.

His words held no interest for me; I didn't care about money or lack thereof. The only thing that had any meaning was the realisation that I had lost my confidant and best friend...my dear Mother.

I swallow thickly and push down the familiar grief that is swimming to the surface.

So, if there wasn't any inheritance money, where did all of the money in that joint account come from? I should have taken that damn statement or at least written the details down. _Stupid! Stupid! _I smack the side of my head in frustration. Why on earth did I think I of all people would remember the sort code and account number? I can barely remember phone numbers!

Also, if the money is his alone why hide the statements and store it in an account in both of our names? Why pretend that we were living hand to mouth, when all of this money was sat there waiting to be used.

All of my unanswered questions make my head spin and I sigh in frustration.

X-X-X-X-X

I place my freshly laundered modest collection of clothing in the drawer that Edward has cleared out for me. We haven't really discussed our living arrangements. Over the last few days we seem to have slipped into a comfortable routine. He has a spare bedroom, but I haven't expressed any interest in sleeping there and he hasn't asked me to. At night we cuddle and seek comfort from each other, but nothing more has happened.

Our days are filled with the everyday activities of eating, nurturing the orchard and generally recovering from some of the most distressing days of my life. I love to have Edward sitting in the kitchen with me, clutching a mug of coffee and reading snippets of news from the paper to me as I prepare breakfast. In the evenings, I enjoy the comfort of having someone else in the room whilst I curl up with a book, instead of being left home alone waiting for the ominous sound of a key scratching against the door.

I'm unsure how Edward genuinely feels about me and I have to admit I'm too much of a coward to ask. He treats me with tenderness, but there is undertone of something fraternal about his actions. He mentioned before that he's not wholly over Tanya and that he doesn't believe he's truly capable of love. I'm not sure I believe that.

I think he's frightened to love. That's why he's exiled himself to this life of monastic proportions and why he is continually pushing me away. He thinks that to love another individual would make both parties vulnerable and weak, not strong and united. To open up to someone else that could be taken away from him, or that he cannot protect every minute of the day scares him. Ergo, it's safer not to love another.

I am scared of my growing feelings. I am beginning to fall in love with Edward, I can feel it blossoming and it alarms me. His gentle manner, his complex mind and his reassuring gestures, all of these things enamour me to him. When I think back to the first night I spent here, I am horrified at how readily I offered myself to him. Thank heavens he was and is a gentleman. As much as I am falling for him, throwing myself into another relationship seems like a spectacularly awful idea.

It occurs to me that I must repair myself, before I even contemplate embarking on anything more than friends with Edward. I don't even know that he feels the same way and I have no desire to make a fool of myself by throwing myself at him again.

I have to learn to stand on my own two feet for a change, to do things for myself. I need to be selfish for a while. To repair myself and, as clichéd as it sounds, to find out who I really am. I cannot continue to define myself by the man I am with.

The enormity of my thoughts takes me by surprise and I come to sit at the foot of the bed. I need to find out who the real Bella Swan is, because she's been suppressed and stifled for a very long time. _If the young girl in the graduation photo could see me now what would she think? _

"Penny for them?"

I look up to see a grinning Edward standing casually with his hands nestled in the back pockets of his black jeans. He's wearing a finely knit v-neck jumper, the taupe colour makes his eyes seem even more golden. My eyes traverse across his sculpted body, passing his long slender muscular legs and stopping to look at his tan leather deck shoes. He looks like a Calvin Klein model. I wonder how much those shoes cost; they look expensive, and the leather looks so supple.

"You don't have enough pennies, Mr. Cullen." I smile kindly.

"Want to talk about it?" He takes a few steps, moving further into the room.

I take a deep breath, wondering what on earth to tell Edward. I'm not ready to bare my soul to him. This is something I have to work through on my own.

Instead I remain silent and rest my eyes on the open drawer that contains my limited garments, all symbols of the old Bella. Edward's eyes follow my gaze and come to settle on the drawer also.

"Is it about your clothes? Did you want to get more from the house?" He stares at me, looking bewildered.

"No, there wasn't anything else to get."

"Do you wish you had more things? Do you need more things? Because honestly, Bella, if you do that's not a problem. I'd be more than happy to get you anything you needed." His words come out in a rush.

His generosity amazes me. If it were anyone else those words would sound arrogant, but coming from Edward it just endears me towards him all the more.

I suppose I could do with some new blouses; the summer will be here soon; and my shoes are looking a bit battered. _Wait a minute! Am I really contemplating spending Edward's money?_

"Edward, honestly, they're just things. It's not important." I smile at him thankfully.

"I know they're just things Bella, but you still need clothes and shoes. It's not frivolity, it's necessity." He shrugs casually.

"I don't like to think of you spending your money on me and I don't have any that I know of..." I'm referring of course to the statement.

"Are you thinking of the statement you told me about?"

I nod.

"You can't remember any of it? The name of the bank even?" He asks kindly, but I become exasperated as I've been asking myself the same questions over and over for the past few days.

"No Edward, I can't!" I clench my fist in frustration, unable to do the same with my cast wrist, which just antagonises me further.

"Hey, hey. It's okay!" He comes to sit next to me on the bed, our bodies turn towards each other, knees touching.

"It's not okay! I only saw part of the statement and I was so shocked by what I read. I didn't want to risk taking it, but in hindsight I should have taken at least one page of it. I read the account number and sort code over and over again trying to memorize it.

"I cannot believe I don't remember it. I am so angry with myself, Edward. It's the only piece to the puzzle that I have...that I had." My voice trembles and I feel my eyes brim with tears of frustration; I refuse to let them fall. Sniffing noisily I wipe my nose on the back of my hand in an undignified manner.

"You didn't know that evening was going to unfold like it did! I'm sure if it were any other chain of events you'd remember the details."

He pauses and makes contact, placing his hands on my upper arms and rubbing them up and down. It's soothing.

"I think the information will come to you if you stop forcing the details so much. When you least expect it they'll just pop into your head." He smiles confidently and squeezes my arms gently.

"I really hope so." I look down glumly, resigning myself to the idea that I'll never know where the money is stored or how it got there.

"Look, how about we go out for a little while? Take your mind off things? You've been cooped up in the house a lot recently." He looks at me hopefully and wiggles his eyebrows, earning a small smile from me.

"That would be nice. Are you sure it would be okay? With James out on bail I mean?" I shudder at the thought of running into him.

"It'll be fine. If he tries to make contact we'll notify the Police and he'll be taken straight back into custody. Come on, let's go." He claps his hands together as if trying to spur me into action.

I self-consciously smooth my loose hair, and look down at my old tea-dress and worn penny loafers, wondering if I look presentable.

"Where are we going? What should I wear?" I blush at my superficial questions. I don't want to embarrass him.

"Oxford. For sight-seeing and, if I manage to talk you into it, some shopping too! You look perfect as you are. Don't change a thing." He's so full of energy it's infectious.

"Oxford here we come!" I smile excitedly. A day out is exactly what I need.

X-X-X-X-X

We saunter lazily along St Aldate's, passing Christ Church College and its Tom Tower on our left. I look up at the giant bell, marvelling at the enormity of it. I lower my gaze and stare through the open gates of the college into the Tom Quadrangle. Students bustle around and noisy double-decker buses cruise down the main road we walk alongside.

Out of the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of a portly middle-aged man standing in the gateway to the college. He wears a black suit, polished black shoes and a white dress shirt. He's finished off with a black bowler hat.

"Edward, why's that man dressed like that?" I tug on his sleeve and nod in his general direction not wanting to point.

"Oh. He's a bulldog. Remnants of the University Constables, Christ Church still insist they dress like that. Tradition I guess, like most things in Oxford. They're not fond of change here." He whispers conspiratorially.

"A bulldog? What a strange name." I muse, smiling at the gentleman as we walk past.

"Yes, I'm not sure why they call them that. Although I suppose he does look a bit like a British bulldog." This makes me giggle and we quicken our steps like naughty children that have been caught up to no good.

We exhaust all of the shops the city has to offer. Edward insists on buying me some new things. At first I am reluctant, but Edward is so persuasive. He won't let me see the price-tags, but judging by the shops' decor, the helpfulness of the staff and the paper bags containing hand-wrapped items, I can't imagine they are cheap. He's now loaded up with bags of various items of clothing.

We're now on the sightseeing leg of our adventure. Edward constantly takes my picture using his iPhone, positioning me next to various blue plaques, monuments and places of interest. My face hurts from smiling. I can't remember the last time I had my picture taken so much! My patience is waning.

Edward leads us towards the meadow of Christ Church. We climb the few short steps and make our way along the gravel path. Ornamental gardens and a rockery surround the Cathedral. Edward indicates that the University boathouses are located at the bottom of the meadow, along the banks of the River Thames. The stretch that passes through Oxford is commonly referred to as the Isis.

I mention that I'd love to see the river and watch the rowing, but the meadow covers such a large expanse of area we decide to save it for another time. He suggests we come back when it's Eights week for the four day regatta.

The meadow is full of students and members of the public enjoying the unexpected springtime sun. I take in my surroundings. Some sit on the grass amongst the daises in groups chattering good naturedly, while others eat sandwiches for their lunch or sit under the shade of an old tree as they pour over a good book.

As I wait for Edward to return from the ice-cream van with our ice-creams, a gentle breeze lifts my hair. Bumblebees and butterflies zoom past in a haphazard fashion. I take in the breathtaking view, I feel weightless. A couple walk past holding hands. They have a charming little Dachshund on a lead; he brushes past my bare legs and I smile at the contact. He yaps cheerily and wags his tail; the couple laugh and we silently acknowledge each other. It's all so easy.

"Boo."

Edward speaks into my ear and I almost jump out of my skin. I clutch my hand to my chest in shock.

"Don't you ever do that again!" I turn and giggle at his mischievous smile and fail miserably at my attempt to reprimand him.

"Vanilla or Pistachio?" He enquires, smiling broadly, a delicious looking ice-cream cone in each hand. He's also carrying our shopping on one arm, which he refuses to let me help with.

"Pistachio." I say, before swiping the cone from his hand and dotting him on the nose with the ice-cream so that he has a green blob of pistachio on the tip.

I laugh heartily and run away from him along the wide gravel track, looking over my shoulder as I go.

He catches up with me in no time and we fall into a comfortable stroll. He slings an arm around my shoulders and I wrap an arm round his waist as I devour my ice-cream, just about able to grip it in the hand with the cast.

"That wasn't very fair, Miss Swan." Edward's voice is breathy from his gentle run; it's very attractive.

I take a lick of my ice-cream and smile at him triumphantly.

"I don't know what you could possibly be referring to, Mr. Cullen." I widen my eyes in mock innocence.

"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about." He grins and lowers his arm to tickle me right in the ribs. I laugh so much I almost get hiccups. Breaking free, I run away from him. In my haste my grip loosens on the ice-cream and I accidentally drop it as I dash along Rose Lane. I stop in my tracks and look down at the melting puddle. _Damn and it tasted so good!_

I barely resist the urge to stomp my feet like a spoilt child, especially considering Edward is beside himself with laughter.

"Karma's a bitch, Miss Swan." I watch as his shoulders shake gently, conveying his amusement. I huff at the unfairness and stalk off in the direction of the High Street. I don't know Oxford very well, but I recognise my surroundings a little from when I was a child and we occasionally visited.

My Mother used to love seeing the academic side of Oxford and I realise now where our walk has taken us. I'm stood right outside her absolute favourite place to visit: The Botanic Gardens.

I smile at the rows of rectangular rose-beds that house a variety of different coloured rosebuds that have not yet fully bloomed. They are framed by low clipped box-hedges that mark the entrance to the walled gardens.

A wave of emotion sweeps over me. I reach a hand out and grasp one of the wrought-iron bars that make up the black painted fence. It feels cold and strong in my hand, it's grounding and I find it steadies me.

Edward having finished his ice-cream and his laughing comes to join me. I stare straight-ahead feeling his presence behind me.

"My Mother used to bring me here. Can we go in and look around?" I look up at him expectantly.

"Sure, why not." He smiles tightly, but it doesn't reach his eyes. I'm confused by his change in mood but I don't give it another thought; I'm too excited. I take his hand and lead him towards the entrance.

An attendant greets us and Edward flashes them a card with his photograph and the Oxford University crest on it. The little piece of plastic grants us free entry. I raise my eyebrows at him expectantly.

"Did you study at Oxford?" I ask him, my eyes narrow suspiciously.

"Might have done." He smirks knowingly.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" I ask indignantly.

"Well, it never really came up in conversation and I just assumed that you knew." He shrugs.

"Which College?" I enquire and reach out for the card; he holds it above my head teasingly. I tip-toe as best I can but he's too bloody tall. I try to tickle him under the arm, but he doesn't even flinch...nerves of steel.

"If you must know, St. Catz." It's not one I'm familiar with and I press him for information.

"It's not far from here, probably best saved for another day, though. It's one of the youngest colleges and the architecture is amazing. We should make a real visit of it." His face lights up with enthusiasm.

"I'd love that, Edward. I really would." I kiss him softly on the cheek, before making my way through the stone gateway and into the walled gardens.

My attention is immediately drawn to the large round pond and fountain. I watch as small children lean over to dangle their fingers in the water to get a better look at the white and gold Koi Carp that reside there. Nervous parents hover on the fringes, ensuring they don't fall in, or torment the fish too much.

The pond filled with water-lilies fascinated me as a child and I am still drawn to it now. Walking to it, I plant myself on the wide concrete edge that surrounds it and also doubles up as a seat. I close my eyes and tilt my head back exposing my neck, letting the warm sunlight pour over my face. My hair is loose and it spills down my back. I sigh happily.

The sound of a picture being taken causes me to cock one eye open. I smirk at a guilty looking Edward. He's standing arm extended trying to take a sneaky picture of me.

"Forgot about the damn fake shutter noise on these things." He shrugs and glares at the offending phone.

"No matter." I wave my hand dismissively, feeling far too relaxed to care that he has taken my photo...again.

"Really? What happened to 'If you take my picture again, Edward Cullen, I will stamp on that phone?'" He smiles.

"I've come to terms with the fact that you are going to do it regardless." I grin back and rise from the pond.

"Come on, let's check out the glasshouses." I offer him my hand and we head towards the Palm house.

We walk around the glass structures in silence. I read various labels, not recognising any of the Latin names, but some of the common names are familiar. The tropical lily house with its raised humidity and tanks full of water dwelling plants is quite probably my favourite. As we make our way into the orchid house I find myself questioning Edward's quiet mood.

His jovial nature of earlier seems to have all but disappeared; his body language seems disinterested. If it were anyone else I would just assume they didn't like botany, but he seems genuinely uncomfortable here and that is unlike him.

As we exit the glasshouses and come out onto the banks of the River Cherwell by Magdalen Bridge, I decide to broach the subject.

"Edward, is everything ok?" I place a concerned hand on his arm.

"Yes. I'm fine."

His answer is curt and the way he pinches the bridge of his nose means he is anything but fine.

"Are you sure? We can talk about whatever it is if you'd like?" I push the issue, thinking he may need a little coaxing.

"I said I'm fine. Will you just drop it!" His voice is strained.

I swallow thickly, completely shocked at his outburst. I feel like a berated child.

"Yes, sure. Umm, I think I might just go and look over here and leave you alone for a moment or two." I answer him absently, pointing vaguely in the direction of the vegetable gardens.

"Oh Bella, please I didn't mean..." he trails off as I begin to take a few steps away from him.

"Honestly, it's fine. Just give me a minute." I hold up my index finger as I walk away slowly. He's absolutely allowed to have his secrets, I have my own fair share. I just didn't expect him to react like that.

I absently kick at a stone as I walk along the path. Turning a corner I arrive at a bench close to the river. It's enclosed a little, some shrubs creating a sort of alcove. Before I sit down, I decide to read the engraved brass plate attached to it.

My breath catches in my throat as I read the text, once, and then a second time to let it sink in.

TANYA STEPHENIE CULLEN  
22/11/1980 – 13/09/2004  
To know her was to love her

Oh god, oh god. Why didn't he say anything? Why did he let me drag him here? No wonder he seemed distracted. _And the date!_ _She died on my birthday..._

I feel wretched.

I will my feet to comply and jog back in the direction of where I left Edward.

"Edward-"

"Bella-"

We bump right into each other as I turn the corner. He steadies me and then scratches the back of his neck awkwardly.

"I came to apologise." He looks straight over my head in the direction of the bench.

"Me too. Edward, why didn't you say something? I never would've made you come here if I knew." I chew my lip nervously and wait for him to speak.

He brushes past me gently and walks cautiously towards the bench, letting the shopping bags fall from his hand as he comes to stand in front of it. I follow him silently and watch as he reaches a hand out to stroke the brass engraving.

"I thought it would be easier than it is. I thought if I came here with you, it wouldn't still hurt as much. You've helped me heal so much, without even realising it." He closes his eyes and exhales shakily, his shoulders dropping.

I wrap my arm around his waist and squeeze him tightly. Unsure of what to say I remain quiet.

Edward turns and envelopes me in a hug. He kisses me on top of the head; his breathing sounds shaky and thick with emotion. He steers us to the bench and sits us both down side by side, the plaque between us. I break away from his tight embrace, but I remain holding his hands for support.

"Are you okay?" I ask timidly.

He nods.

"Did you come here a lot with Tanya?" My voice remains low.

Again he nods, not looking me in the eye, just staring straight down. He gently takes his hands from mine. Resting his elbows on his knees he runs his hands through his hair, staring at the ground through his knees.

"Tanya used to adore coming here for lazy afternoon picnics nursing a hangover in my student days." He scoffs.

"Then whenever we visited Mum and Dad, she would beg me to stop off here. She bought copious amounts of plants from the gift shop." He sighs and sits upright staring straight-ahead.

"But she wasn't the least bit green-fingered and they always used to die, and we'd have to come back and get more...maybe it was just a ploy to come back." A sad smile plays at his lips.

"I got the bench and the plaque made so I would have somewhere to come and remember her. Somewhere to pay my respects.

"I've only been here a handful of times since. Mainly on the anniversary of her death and more recently..." he trails off, clearing his throat.

I swallow nervously. The anniversary of her death and the anniversary of my aging- what irony.

I squeeze his hand reassuringly.

"More recently I came here the day we kissed and I drove off." He looks at me with tear-filled eyes.

My lips tremble when I see how much pain he is in. I stroke the side of his face with my hand. He closes his eyes and kisses the palm of my hand.

"It's okay. Did you come here out of guilt?" I ask innocently.

"I don't know why I came here." He sighs.

"To ask for her blessing to move on. To tell her what I had done...I'm not entirely sure of my motives. Of course it's not like she's even really here."

His words shock me. Is he referring to the afterlife? I'm confused. I assumed her ashes were scattered here near the bench.

"What do you mean, Edward?" I tilt my head to the side waiting for him to speak.

"She's not here. Her ashes aren't scattered here. She never sat on this bench. This wasn't even her favourite spot. She loved the fountain like you, but this was the most practical spot to place a bench." A lone tear falls down his face. I smooth it away with my thumb.

"Edward, this is a beautiful spot, look at the vista." I spread my arms out to indicate the beautiful space on this sunny day.

"The river, people punting. Magdalen Tower in the distance behind the bridge. It's magnificent." I look around in awe.

"Where are Tanya's ashes scattered, Edward? Would visiting them make you feel closer to her? Does this spot not give you the satisfaction you crave?" I ask gently.

"The location of Tanya's ashes is a touchy subject. Especially for Mr. and Mrs. Denali." I recognise the names of her parents.

"She is scattered in the expansive grounds of their house in America. Her childhood home." He smirks bitterly.

"Oh...yes, that must make it difficult." I sympathise.

"It's not the distance that keeps me away."

"What do you mean?"

"Her parents blame me for her suicide. They still refuse to speak to me and they won't let me visit. They begrudgingly let me attend the funeral, but I haven't been back since. That was 6 years ago. She'd have been 30 this year." He shakes his head.

I shuffle closer to him and wrap my arms around him tenderly. I don't know what to say. I cannot offer any words of comfort it's an appalling turn of events for him. Perhaps the fact that he hasn't really been allowed to mourn properly is what causes some of his insecurities about relationships now.

He rests his head on my shoulder and sniffs quietly. I know he's trying to control his emotions and I ignore his tears that are being absorbed by the thin fabric of my dress.

"Edward, I'm only going to say this once more, because I want you to listen to me and grasp what I am saying." I sit back from him, but keep our bodies close, my hands resting on his shoulders.

"What happened to Tanya, was an awful tragedy, but it is not, nor will it ever be your fault." He opens his mouth to speak and I halt him with my hand.

"While I accept there may have been some events along the way that you could have handled differently, what's done is done now. Please try to move on from this and stop blaming yourself." My voice softens towards the end of my sentence, pleading with him to listen and believe my words.

"I know you're right, Bella. My Mum and Alice tell me repeatedly that I shouldn't hold myself responsible. That I'm not an awful person." He sighs and rubs his face tiredly with an open hand.

"I have to say that until I met you, I didn't believe them. You've made me feel alive again." He takes my hands and I blush.

"I feel like life has purpose, I don't feel numb or detached any more. When I wake up in the morning I want to write; I want to nurture the orchard; I want to take care of you. I no longer feel guilty for enjoying myself.

I came here after I walked out on you because I finally felt like I could let Tanya go. She'll always be with me, but I needed to tell her that I felt ready to move on."

"Edward, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I don't want to rush anything between us, but that I would like my future to include you." He looks at me patiently, waiting for a response.

"You, you really think about me that way?"

He nods and leaning in, he places a soft kiss on my lips. My eyes flutter closed and I sigh as he pulls me in for a hug.

We sit back on the bench and he cradles me against his chest.

"Thank you Bella, for bringing me back to life."

"You don't understand how much you've done for me as well, Edward."

"It's just the start. I'm with you every step of the way."

I smile to myself and stare straight-ahead at Magdalen College Tower.

"One day I'm going to study there." I point in the direction of the college.

"Where? Magdalen?"

I nod.

"Tuition will be pricey, what will you study? Teaching?"

"Yes, teaching." I speak determinedly.

"Whatever it takes, we'll get you there." He sounds just as determined.

I feel as though the discussion has turned a corner and I decide we should do something to celebrate Tanya.

"Come on, let's go and have a look in the gift shop." I jump up from the bench and Edward smiles at me.

He gathers up the bags and just before we leave, he touches the plaque tenderly and I watch him mouth the word 'Goodbye'.

X-X-X-X-X

As we head back to the car, Edward finally concedes and lets me help with some of the bags. He is reluctant at first, but watching him struggle with a cactus and all of the bags is just too much of an accident waiting to happen. I bought a journal in the gift-shop for myself. It has a picture of a lily on the front, along with information about different varieties of lily on some pages in the centre. I have never kept a journal; I didn't trust James not to read it. I hope that writing some of my thoughts down could be cathartic.

Edward wants to head back via the Sheldonian Theatre and this is where I find myself now. He is yet again directing me while he takes another picture. I really don't understand how he can be surrounded by this stunning architecture and seem to want me in every shot.

"Just take another step back, Bella."

I grumble under my breath and take a step back.

It's at that moment I collide with an unsuspecting passerby. I turn on my heel ready to make my apologies, but my words catch in my throat. The man in his mid-fifties who stands before me, straightening his suit and dusting off his trench coat, is one of my Father's oldest employees.

Edward comes jogging over to us as I stare open-mouthed.

"I'm so sorry, it was my fault. I hope there isn't any harm done." He smiles genuinely as he looks between us.

"Mr Dwyer?" I asked in a stunned voice.

"Isabella Swan, is that you?" His face softens and he looks at me sadly.

I nod, unsure of what to say.

"I'm so sorry for the awful loss of your parents. I did attend the funeral, but you were understandably overwhelmed so I kept my distance." He bows his head.

I'm frozen to the spot. I know my father's office was based in Oxford, but it never occurred to me I'd bump into anyone.

"Thank you that means a lot. I-I wanted to say that I'm really sorry about everything that happened with my Father's company. I hope you have been able to find more work." I smile sincerely. This is the moment I dread, but I feel I must apologise.

Edward stands next to me, politely remaining quiet.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean. I didn't lose my job." Confusion etches across his soft kindly features.

"My Father's company was liquidated. I was told that all of the employees of Swan Accountancy Ltd were made redundant." I answer confidently, wondering if he is confused.

"Who gave you that information?"

"My husband, James Smith. He handled the whole thing." I smile to show that I've come to terms with it.

"Isabella, I'm afraid you've been misinformed. Swan Accountancy was a strong business. It was sold for a profit. I still work in the same offices. Of course it's called Isis Accountancy Ltd now. We've almost doubled in size, but in essence, it's still the same company." He finishes and clasps his hands together.

Surely he's mistaken.

My mouth feels like cotton wool and I feel sick as I gape at both Edward and Mr Dwyer.

**A/n: Well, well the little sneak! Hmm what really has been going on? Time for E&B to play detective!**

There were a lot of Oxford traditions and English terms mentioned in this chapter that some readers may be unfamiliar with, so here are some points of reference should you be interested in finding out more about them.

**Oxford University Bulldog – Image ****http : / / tinyurl . com / 6k7d8za  
Article about their disbanding ****http : / / tinyurl . com / 5txyc3w**  
**Blue plaques – www . oxfordshireblueplaques . org . uk  
Punting – ****http : / / tinyurl . com / 3jgpjam  
Eights Week – http : / / tinyurl . com / 2o3yzu  
Oxford Botanic Gardens – http : / / tinyurl . com / 3b9bqbb**

**Any other questions, let me know in a review! *grins***


	28. Chapter 28

**Hello All!  
First of all, I need to apologise for the lack of updates. My only excuse is weddings (not mine), holidays and momentous events...like meeting one of my wonderful betas and other nice things like that.  
So I hope I haven't pissed you all off and that you are still interested in reading this.  
Thank you to xoEMC and Jaustenlover for casting their wise yet youthful eyes over this chapter for me.  
Enjoy xx**

_End of chapter 27..._

_As we head back to the car, Edward finally concedes and lets me help with some of the bags. He is reluctant at first, but watching him struggle with a cactus and all of the bags is just too much of an accident waiting to happen. I bought a journal in the gift-shop for myself. It has a picture of a lily on the front, along with information about different varieties of lily on some pages in the centre. I have never kept a journal; I didn't trust James not to read it. I hope that writing some of my thoughts down could be cathartic._

_Edward wants to head back via the Sheldonian Theatre and this is where I find myself now. He is yet again directing me while he takes another picture. I really don't understand how he can be surrounded by this stunning architecture and seem to want me in every shot._

_"Just take another step back, Bella."_

_I grumble under my breath and take a step back._

_It's at that moment I collide with an unsuspecting passerby. I turn on my heel ready to make my apologies, but my words catch in my throat. The man in his mid-fifties who stands before me, straightening his suit and dusting off his trench coat, is one of my Father's oldest employees._

_Edward comes jogging over to us as I stare open-mouthed._

_"I'm so sorry, it was my fault. I hope there isn't any harm done." He smiles genuinely as he looks between us._

_"Mr Dwyer?" I asked in a stunned voice._

_"Isabella Swan, is that you?" His face softens and he looks at me sadly._

_I nod, unsure of what to say._

_"I'm so sorry for the awful loss of your parents. I did attend the funeral, but you were understandably overwhelmed so I kept my distance." He bows his head._

_I'm frozen to the spot. I know my father's office was based in Oxford, but it never occurred to me I'd bump into anyone._

_"Thank you that means a lot. I-I wanted to say that I'm really sorry about everything that happened with my Father's company. I hope you have been able to find more work." I smile sincerely. This is the moment I dread, but I feel I must apologise._

_Edward stands next to me, politely remaining quiet._

_"I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean. I didn't lose my job." Confusion etches across his soft kindly features._

_"My Father's company was liquidated. I was told that all of the employees of Swan Accountancy Ltd were made redundant." I answer confidently, wondering if he is confused._

_"Who gave you that information?"_

_"My husband, James Smith. He handled the whole thing." I smile to show that I've come to terms with it._

_"Isabella, I'm afraid you've been misinformed. Swan Accountancy was a strong business. It was sold for a profit. I still work in the same offices. Of course it's called Isis Accountancy Ltd now. We've almost doubled in size, but in essence, it's still the same company." He finishes and clasps his hands together._

_Surely he's mistaken._

_My mouth feels like cotton wool and I feel sick as I gape at both Edward and Mr Dwyer._

Chapter 28

My fingers encircle the mug containing the tea that has long gone cold. Edward and I have been sleuthing relentlessly since we returned from Oxford. We've been in his study making calls and carrying out research for the past few hours. Some of the business jargon that Edward has been using has my head spinning.

I've come into the conservatory to take a break. The sun set some time ago. I should really draw the curtains, but I like to stare out into the inky black emptiness. I turn my gaze to the shopping bags that sit by the kitchen table. Edward bought me some lovely things, but after this afternoon's chance encounter, I struggle to take any pleasure from them.

We were having such a progressive day, I was finally beginning to feel like my old-self around Edward. He began to open up to me about Tanya, it really felt like some headway was being made. Something always comes back to de-rail me though; I wonder sometimes if it is worth carrying on.

I feel like such a fraud, living with him, pleading poverty, when all along I have been duped by my spiteful husband. He must've been so proud of himself, hoarding all of the assets that were meant to be mine; things I would've gladly shared with him. His incessant greed I can almost come to terms with, but what I can't understand is why he remained married to me for so long. Did he ever really love me?

It would be so much simpler to just become consumed by it all. To retreat within myself and to let life carry on around me, to just become a spectator. I know that isn't a viable solution. I cannot let past experiences define me. I have to move on with my life. Although sitting here today, I wish I could just fast-forward and have these difficult times firmly behind me. I cling to my mother and her memory now to get me through these challenging times. All of the men that have featured prominently in my life have been a disappointment up until now.

Edward is slowly redressing the balance and restoring some of my faith. He has made me his primary concern. I know I need to work on becoming stronger, but he makes it so easy to lean on him. I'm frightened that I'm in danger of repeating my past mistakes. He helps me in so many ways. Most importantly he gives me validation, makes me feel valued and worthy of attention. I genuinely believe that being ignored is crueller than being taunted. At least when someone is belittling you, they're acknowledging the fact that you exist.

A depressing sigh escapes my lips and I place the mug on the low table in front of me. I hold my head in my hands, wishing that my fingers could still the jumble of thoughts that are contained within.

I feel him enter the room before I see him; his presence is electric, drawing me to him like I'm statically charged. I sweep back my hair and open my eyes, looking in his general direction. He's still in the smart clothes he wore on our trip to Oxford. He looks tired and his hair is something of a nest where his hands have worried it continuously. He stands in the darkness of the doorway, haloed by the light coming from the kitchen. He has a stack of paper in his hands and a forced smile on his face.

I swallow nervously and with trembling fingers I switch on the table-lamp next to me, dimly lighting the previously pitch-black room. I blink rapidly as my eyes take a few seconds to adjust. He pads over to me and rubs a hand on my back. I press myself into him; my head rests near his stomach. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, filling my lungs with his scent and trying to force back tears.

I reluctantly pull away from him first and he kneels down next to me, placing some paperwork in my lap. I look over the documents and instantly recognise the logo of my Father's accountancy firm. The words 'Annual Report' are written in bold typeface on the front. My eyes widen and I look to Edward for an explanation.

"One of those calls I made came through." His voice is gravelly and low. I nod for him to go on.

"It seems that under the Freedom of Information Act your Father was obliged to provide information about his company's turnover to Companies House. They're a government funded organisation and they ensure that all annual reports are freely available." He pauses, waiting to check that I understand everything he has said.

"OK," I say apprehensively.

"Is it what we suspected?" My voice comes out as a whisper.

He nods somberly.

"It's not good news Bella. I won't lie to you." His voice full of emotion.

No, he's always been nothing but honest with me. That's why I trust him so.

"I know you won't, please go on." I give his upper arm a squeeze to show that I'm stronger than I appear.

"Your Father made a profit for every year that he was in operation. I'm not talking about a small profit either, every year he exceeded the previous year's turnover.

It's all in there. Whoever bought the company would have paid a handsome price for it." His hands motion to the stack of paper resting between us.

I feel the little colour I had in me drain from my cheeks. I suppose in all reality it never did add up that a firm of accountants would go bust. _Just another example of my immense naivety._

"So, do you think that's where some of the money in the bank account came from?" I look to him for confirmation, desperate to show that I follow his train of thought.

"Yes, but I really think that may only be a fraction of the money, Bella. Regardless of what your Father's firm sold for, now that we know he wasn't bust, you need to consider all of your parents other assets."

"I-I didn't really know anything about my Father's finances. Edward. He wouldn't have trusted me or my mother with that information.

All I know for certain is that if he wasn't bankrupt, the house would've been sold for a profit. The house didn't have a mortgage. There was also a holiday cottage in Cornwall."

I cast my mind back, trying to recall anything else of use. All I remember are endless games of golf between James and my Father and trips to the clubhouse. All of which were orchestrated by James. _Of course!_

"He would've told James, though!" The length and breadth of my soon to be ex-husband's deceit is slowly unraveling.

"James was always following my Father around." I look at Edward to see if he is with me, as I work through my memories and mental calculations.

"He would organise regular games of golf with my Father, sometimes spending more time with him than with me on the weekends. They went for drinks together and James even expressed an interest in my Father's line of work. He hinted that he wanted to re-train as a Chartered Accountant, so that he and my Father could run the firm together one day.

"When my parents died and he didn't pursue it any further, I just assumed that he had changed his mind, based on the fragility of my Father's industry." I shrug pathetically.

Edward mulls my words over before speaking.

"Well, it would certainly explain a few things that have happened since your parents' passing." He looks at me sympathetically.

"Edward, there's something I just cannot get out of my head..." I stare at him, unblinking.

"What if..." I shake my head as my throat constricts and I struggle to choke out the words.

"What if he had..." I break off my sentence again and cover my mouth with my hand, and try to control the nauseating feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"What if he had your parents killed?" Edward completes my sentence for me.

I nod, a single tear falls down my cheek.

He kisses my tear away and I close my eyes. I feel his warm breath flutter over my face. Two more small kisses are placed on each closed eyelid. He wraps me in a hug and buries his face in my hair.

I press myself further into his chest, wanting to block out our conversation and all that it might mean. His hands rub up and down my back, leaving a fiery trail.

I don't know how long we sit there clinging to each other. It feels so natural as our bodies both provide and receive equal comfort.

X-X-X-X-X

My fingers lift the silky soft fabric from the paper bag, leaving behind the tissue paper that protected it. I slip the silken nightdress over my head, my skin tingles as the cool material slides past my skin, skirting over my hips and falling to my ankles.

The cut dips at the front exposing my collarbone and the top of my breasts. I adjust the spaghetti straps and smooth the material. I spin a little, enjoying the feel, as the silk swishes with each movement. It feels so wonderful to wear something this delicate and beautiful. I only wish I could hide my damn cast; I tut at it disapprovingly.

After one final look in the mirror to smooth down my hair, I switch off the light and vacate the en suite bathroom. When I open the door I see Edward, lounging in bed, his arms crossed behind his head.

At the sight of me he sits up straight and his eyes slowly travel up and down my body. I shiver under his scrutiny. A diminutive smile plays at the corner of his lips and he clears his throat before speaking.

"Oh Bella, you look breath-taking." His voice is so husky I barely hear him, but that doesn't stop my cheeks flushing. I duck my head and smile to myself.

"Shame about this though!" I wave my cast desolately.

"That just completes the ensemble." He chuckles softly and peels back the covers for me to climb in beside him. Just like he has done every night since I've stayed here.

I clamber eagerly into what has become my side of the bed and sigh with contentment as my head rests on the soft downy pillows. I turn to look up at Edward.

He motions towards my cast and extends a hand. I offer my arm out to him.

"May I?"

It's only then I notice he is holding a pen. Smiling, I nod. He blocks my view with his upper body so I cannot read what he is writing until he is finished.

"Do you always have a pen with you when you go to bed?" I enquire, a hint of amusement evident in my voice.

"Well, quite often I'll wake up with an idea and I just have to get it down on paper. So I keep a pen and paper in my top drawer." He speaks casually, indicating that he thinks this is perfectly normal behaviour.

"Makes sense I guess."

He looks over his shoulder at me and smiles broadly. He places the cap back on the pen and blows on the ink to dry it, before letting me see the writing.

**There is nothing so broken, that it cannot be fixed.  
Ex**

I read the words, knowing that it isn't merely my wrist that he is referring to. This goes for both of us. We'll fix each other.

My lips mouth the word 'Thank You'. I think my voice would betray me if I actually spoke.

I press myself into his chest, so close our bodies almost feel like they are fused as one. I place a tender kiss just below his collarbone. My lips linger there, hovering just above the skin, before I lay my cheek flat on his chest.

I smile as I feel his chin come to rest on top of my head. His hand slides down the side of my body and comes to a stop on my hip as he tucks me further into him.

"I want to look after you so much, Bella. I think I'm falling for you."

His hand doesn't stay still for long and it doesn't bother me one bit. His fingers glide back and forth over the silky fabric of my nightdress, inching it up slightly with each movement. I tilt my head and place another kiss on the exposed underside of his jaw. I feel it clench under my touch and he grabs a fistful of fabric at my hip. The edge of the nightshirt coming to rest at my knees now, as I continue to pepper little kisses along his jaw-line.

"I think I'm falling for you too, Edward," I say between kisses.

I open my eyes to see if it is too much, but his eyes are closed and his lips are parted as he lets out a small moan. I shuffle nearer, which is barely possible. Pressing myself against him, my breasts rub against his chest; the cool silk is the only barrier between us.

His hands release the fabric and travel up my arms, leaving a blazing trail of goose-bumps. I place my palm flat on his back as I pull him in closer to me. He caresses my back lazily. His fingers ghost across the naked flesh between my shoulder-blades. A small moan leaves my lips as I feel my eyes flutter closed.

I lean my head back, revealing the whole of my neck. Edward ducks his head and begins to return the same kisses that I was lavishing on him. His lips tackle either side of my collar bone, tracing along the skin. It feels as though my blood pools to every section of skin that he caresses.

"You're so beautiful, Bella." He murmurs, his words brush against my skin.

I arch my back as his fingers skim down my spine and come to rest on the curve of my bottom. One hand trails along my thigh, hitching my leg up at the knee to come to a rest on his hip.

"Is this ok?"

"More than ok, Edward."

His touch is so gentle. We're both so much less frenzied than when I tried to offer myself to him before. This feels real, not rushed. I feel ready for this.

"You're sure? I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or pressured." He stops and looks at me, his eyes searching my face for even a hint of uncertainty.

My body feels like it is on fire. My pulse quickens as his fingers play with the soft skin of my raised inner thigh. His lips travel lower, kissing along my breast through the fabric; his nose brushes against my skin; his hot ragged breath teasing me.

"Mmm, you have the softest skin." He buries his face in between my breasts and places more small kisses there.

He moves achingly slowly, as if he is worried he'll frighten me. Lowering the straps of my nightdress, the fabric falls past my breasts. My nipples are already hard as they are presented to him.

He kisses lower so his lips are inches from one of my nipples.

"May I?" He asks, eyebrows raised, not wanting to take anything for granted.

"Please..." I nod, biting my lip.

He blows gently on the sensitive skin before taking it between his lips. My eyes roll back in my head with pleasure and a groan bursts from my mouth. He slowly sucks and licks my nipple, his tongue swirling around as it becomes harder. My fingers find their way into his hair, tugging on the strands and pulling him closer to me.

I can feel myself becoming more aroused with each movement. No one has ever made me feel this alive. My thigh that rests on his hip inches higher exposing the bare flesh between my legs. The cool air hits me and I can feel how damp he has made me.

Edward switches to my other breast and at the same time brings one of his hands down to rest just between my thighs. I feel the proximity of his fingers and I ache for him to touch me down there.

"More?" He speaks with my nipple still in his mouth.

"Oh God, yes, please." My voice is quiet and breathy, but it reveals all of my desire. I try and inch myself closer to his fingers. They trace along the length of my lips, but never explore further.

"You're sure?" At any other time, his double-checking would be adorable, but my body craves this so much. It has never been manipulated like this before.

"Please, Edward, please. I want it so badly."

Convinced by my pleading he dips his fingers lower. I feel one slide easily inside me, while his thumb brushes against my clitoris. I buck my hips and mewl with contentment as he gently strokes me and continues to suck my nipples.

I feel his other hand at the nape of my neck as he grabs a fistful of my hair. It doesn't hurt and he doesn't tug at all. Instead his fingers splay out and gently massage my scalp. My hand moves down to rest on his hand that is between my legs and I gently urge him to push further inside me.

I reach across and gently stroke his erection through the fabric of his pyjamas. His lips still, and I worry that I have done something wrong.

"No, Bella, don't. This is all about you." He moves to kiss between my breasts.

"But I want to do something for you too, Edward." I grumble to him.

"You are doing something for me. You're letting me enjoy all of you and hopefully you'll come for me too." He speaks so seductively and I feel my excitement notch up a gear at his words.

His fingers are relentless, bringing me so close to the edge. The folds of warm, wet skin accommodate him willingly. I stretch when he slides in another finger, slowly working it back and forth. I find myself on my back now as he rests on his side next to me, watching me. It doesn't occur to me to be shy; this just feels too good.

I grab a fistful of bedding as my breathing becomes ragged and I lift my hips in time with his fingers, trying to get more friction, trying to feel him deeper. Desperate for anything as I become more frenzied, getting closer and closer to coming.

As his thumb grazes me, I am undone. I groan deeply as my body shudders with each wave of pleasure, and I contract around his fingers. I feel a level of satisfaction that I have never experienced before. Each muscle melts into the mattress and my breathing is shallow as Edward repositions my nightdress and kisses me deeply.

"Thank you for making me feel so wonderful." I smile as he kisses me again.

"The pleasure was all mine, Miss Swan." He turns me on my side, and after turning out the light he pulls me into a hug, his arm resting on my waist.

"Does this change things between us Edward?" I ask him drowsily.

"Yes, but for the better, I promise." He kisses my shoulder.

I fall asleep smiling to myself. This day didn't turn out to be all bad after all.

X-X-X-X-X

I wake up feeling more well-rested and light-hearted than I have for a long-time. I look across to see Edward lying next to me. He's awake and he smiles down at me.

"Good Morning."

"Good Morning."

I roll over to him and shyly place a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth.

"Did you sleep ok, after everything that happened last night?" I think I see him blush.

"I slept the best I have in ages. Thank you for last night." I blush at my words.

"Have you been awake long?"

"A little while. I like watching you sleep." He brushes a strand of hair off my forehead and pulls me into his arms, my head resting on his chest.

"I can't imagine I'm very entertaining." I wrinkle up my nose at the thought.

"Actually you'd be surprised. You're very vocal." He chuckles and my head snaps up to look at him as I flush red.

"What did I say?" I feel mortified.

"Lots of random things, I wrote some of them down, a few words and some numbers too." He reaches across for the pad of paper and I try to sneak a look but he holds it too high for me. I cross my arms as best I can and wait for him to recite the details.

"Let me see, kitchen floor...Edward's hands...092144...Bloody Bastard...60877752...Chocolate railway. Yep I think that was all of it." His eyes scan the list once more.

"What were those numbers again?" I sit bolt upright, knowing that they are familiar.

He shows me his notes.

I read the numbers again, letting their meaning sink in.

"Oh Edward, you're fantastic!" I throw my arms around his neck and squeeze him tightly.

"Well, yes I agree, but any particular reason?" He smiles and pulls back so he can see my face.

"Those numbers. They are the bank details for the account James had in our name!" I search his face for some form of recognition. He breaks out into a laugh and pulls me close, squeezing me back tightly.

"Let me get my MacBook." He lets me go and settles me on the bed before sprinting from the room and dashing to the study to retrieve his favourite gadget.

When he returns to the room he has already started it up and is browsing the internet. He comes to sit on the bed and rests the computer between us.

"Let me see those numbers again."

I position the notepad so he can see it clearly.

"Right well, the first set of numbers must be the branch-code as all bank account numbers have eight digits like the second set."

"How do you know all this?" I look at him admiringly.

"Don't know, just do. I thought everyone did." He shrugs.

He types in the sort code, separating the digits into three groups of two using hyphens.

The search results are returned in seconds and it looks like the bank account belongs to an Internet only bank called Premier Direct.

"Well, that's that then. A dead end," I say bitterly.

"Not necessarily, the account is in both of your names. You could give them a ring." He suggests.

"I tried that, Edward. I couldn't get past security. He has a password set-up on the account." I sigh.

Edward keeps searching around the site for any further information.

"Wait, it says here that they have kiosks in a number of other bank branches for depositing cash and dealing with account enquiries. There's one in Oxford!" He beams at me hopefully.

As he continues to read, his face begins to fall.

"Bella, have you heard of Coutts?"

I shake my head.

"They're a very...exclusive bank. If James has money stored in a bank associated with them, we're probably talking large sums of money. A minimum deposit of half a million pounds is required to open an account."

"The balance of that account was much less than half a million pounds. It doesn't add up that he would have an account there. How do you know about them?" I ask curiously.

"I have an account with their flagship London branch." He smiles tightly.

"Oh." Is all I can think to say.

"Do you have your passport or driving licence? All we need to do is prove you're you. Then they have to tell you about the account and maybe any others?" He looks at me hopefully.

"Umm, I don't have my passport. Come to think of it, I haven't seen it for a while, but I never need it. I have my driving licence, though."

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's head to the bank and talk to them." He leaps out of bed and then turns to look at me.

"We'll get to the bottom of all of this, Bella. I promise." He holds my chin and kisses me softly on the lips. I kiss him back.

"Now let's get dressed." He smiles, kisses the tip of my nose and runs into the en suite.

X-X-X-X-X

We're dressed and in the car in under twenty minutes and in another hour we find ourselves parking up in the centre of Oxford. Edward takes my hand and walks me hurriedly towards the bank. My feet dance along the cobbled streets as Edward weaves us through a number of different side streets that form a shortcut known only by him.

We come to a stop in front of the bank and I look up at the foreboding structure. A series of stone steps lead up to the wide stone doorway. It looks to be a least two hundred years old, probably more.

"Ready?" Edward squeezes my hand.

"Not really." I chew my lip nervously.

"Come on, it'll be fine." We make our way up the steps and enter the branch.

The inside is completely different than the entrance. There is glass and chrome everywhere. Futuristic furniture and modest marketing displays fill up the space. We head in the direction of the reception desk.

The receptionist looks us up and down, before settling her gaze on Edward.

"Good Morning, and welcome to Coutts. How may I help you?" She smiles at Edward expectantly. Her silk shirt is tucked into her pencil skirt and a neckerchief completes the look. She is painfully slim, poised and elegant.

I gulp noisily unable to form the words. Edward steps in to help me out.

"We're here to enquire about a joint account in the name of Isabella Smith & James Smith. It was set up with one of your online subsidiaries."

I smile at Edward gratefully and squeeze his hand.

"Certainly, I shall see what we have. Do you have any account details?" Her voice is clipped and she looks to Edward for further direction.

"Bella?" He looks to me and I nod as I unfold the piece of paper that I have been clutching in my hand and slide it across the counter to the lady.

"Thank you." She reaches for the paper and digests the information.

"It is for one of our Premier Direct accounts I see. We have one account in both names and Mr. Smith has another account in his name only." She taps on the keyboard and waits for some information to appear on her screen.

At this information I turn to look at Edward. Our suspicions confirmed, I see the recognition in his face.

"For security, can I ask you to confirm the password on the account please, Mrs. Smith?" She looks at me expectantly.

"I'm afraid I don't know the password. My husband set up the account."

She looks to Edward expectantly.

He just shakes his head minutely to indicate this isn't him and places his hand reassuringly at the base of my spine.

"Well, there is a security question. If you can answer it we can look at re-setting the password and getting you access to the account." She taps on the keyboard some more as I wait patiently.

"Do you have any identification with you, Mrs. Smith?" She looks bored.

"Yes, I do." I proudly present my driving licence, pleased to be able to get something right under this woman's critical eye.

"Excellent." She takes the card and types out some more information.

"Ok, so the security question is...'What is the Narnian Gateway?' " She waits expectantly.

My mind goes completely blank and I stare at Edward. He returns my confused look. I was hoping the question would be something like James' favourite colour or his Mother's maiden name.

I grit my teeth in annoyance, not wanting to reveal the full extent of my emotions.

"I'm afraid I have no idea of the answer to that question." I shake my head sadly.

"Without the correct answer I cannot grant you access to the account. Alternatively, if you could visit the branch with Mr. Smith, we can look at resetting the password and security question to something you both agree on." She smiles at me smugly.

I flinch at the mention of James and step closer to Edward.

"Excuse me..." Edward stops to read the lady's name badge,

"Lauren."

He smiles warmly and I watch as she turns her entire attention to him.

"Considering you have Bella's drivers licence and you can verify who she is, is there really nothing a woman of your power could do? Couldn't we even get copies of previous statements of the account? It is in her name as well you see." He smiles at her sincerely and she bats her eyelashes back at him.

"Well, I could probably pull a few strings. Are you ok to wait while I make some calls?" She twirls her hair around her fingers and stares deep into Edward's eyes.

"Certainly, we'll be right here." He smiles at her as she leaves the desk and makes her way into an office out of view.

I shake my head at Edward and smile wearily.

He just shrugs and stoops to whisper in my ear, "she's not a patch on you."

I blush ferociously and look down at the floor, unable to think of anything fitting to say.

We wait an age for Lauren, and when she eventually emerges she looks pleased with herself.

"After speaking with Head Office, there is some good news." She talks directly to Edward as we discuss my bank account.

"Sure, go on." Edward pulls me to him to include me as she speaks.

"Well, if I can take a copy of your driving licence, Mrs. Smith, we can get some statements sent out to you in the post. I assume they will be able to answer most of the questions you have about the account. However, statements can only be sent to the address associated with the account." She smiles at us proudly.

"Oh yes, most certainly. Thank you for your help, Lauren."

It's not perfect, but it's a step in the right direction. I will have to visit the house again to intercept the statements. This displeases me.

"Yes, thank you Lauren, it's much appreciated." Edward smiles and leans on the counter, turning up the charm another notch.

With my licence photocopied and my address confirmed for forwarding the statements, we prepare to make our departure from the bank.

"Oh, Mrs. Smith." Lauren calls after me and comes out from behind the counter. I stop and turn to look at her.

"Please do call us if you remember the password or the answer to the security question, and we can arrange for you to have online access to the account." She smiles kindly and I think that perhaps she isn't so bad after all.

That is until I see her wink at Edward and I find myself steering him hurriedly out of the bank.

X-X-X-X-X

Edward has cooked a homely meal of beef and ale stew with dumplings for us both. It is just what I needed, old-fashioned comfort food to take my mind off the traumas of the day. We are now sitting on the sofa enjoying a glass of ruby red wine. Music plays at a low level on the iPod as we discuss the partly fruitful day amongst other things.

"That security question has been going round and round in my head," I confess to Edward before taking a sip of my wine.

My feet are tucked up under me and I am sat in the crook of his arm. We have become quite the inseparable pair since last night; the physical aspect of our relationship having notched up a level.

"Me too. It's probably something so obvious we'll kick ourselves when you work it out."

He kisses the top of my head.

"When I work it out?" I scoff.

"You're more perceptive than you give yourself credit it for. I have faith that you'll work it out." He squeezes me in a one armed hug and I sigh.

"Were you this wise as a child?" I enquire.

"I like to think I was, but I highly doubt it. You'll have to ask my Mother."

I turn and look up at him.

"Would you like me to meet your Mother? When this is all sorted out I mean?" I chew on my fingernail self-consciously.

"Of course I want my parents to meet you. They'll love you as much as I do." His face stills as the gravity of his words hit him.

"I'd love to meet them too." I smile and gloss over his words, not wanting to make him squirm. I see him visibly relax and I nestle back into his arms.

"So, back to your childhood. What was it like having siblings? I'm so jealous considering I was an only child."

"Well, I'm the youngest so naturally Emmett used to enjoy humiliating me in front of my parent's friends and other family members."

"What sort of things did he do?" I ask curiously.

"Oh you know, spilling drinks in my crotch to make it look like I'd wet myself. Making me go in goal whenever we played penalty shoot-out and just generally throwing his weight around. Alice was worse though." He sighs sagely.

"Really? Worse how?" I try and stifle my laughter.

"She used to dress me up and practice her make-up on me. I used to hate it. All I wanted to do was sit and read without being bothered." He laughs at the memory.

"My Mother used to call me her little bookworm."

I smile at his words.

"I was a total bookaholic too! I suppose I still am now." It pleases me that we have something so tangible in common.

"So what was your favourite book as a child?" I turn so that I am facing him.

"Well, after I visited The Kilns on a family summer holiday, I have to say I became fascinated with anything written by CS Lewis. Especially _The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe_. I read that book again and again. I wanted to be Peter so badly." He takes a sip of his wine and stares ahead nostalgically.

"Edward! That's it!"

I jump up off the sofa, some of my red wine leaving the glass in my excitement.

He looks at me as though I have gone mad.

"The answer to the security question...The Narnian Gateway!" I look to him for understanding.

He registers what I am saying and smiles knowingly at me.

"The password is 'wardrobe'." We both say in unison.

**A/n: **

**The Kilns is the house that CS Lewis lived in and where he wrote all of his books. You can see more here www(.)headington(.)org(.)uk / history / buildings / kilns(.)htm  
This is what the bank Coutts looks like in Oxford www(.)flickr(.)com / photos / majorclanger / 2706106414 /  
Thanks for reading all and I promise not so long between updates now the pace is picking up! **


	29. Author's Note

Hello All!

Excuse the A/n I hate to do these, but I wanted to let you all know that I will shortly be posting the final 5 chapters of 'A Form of Escapism', which also includes the epilogue.

I wanted to give you all a chance to re-read the last chapters if necessary as it has been a while since I last updated.

Also, for those of you that were anxious about starting this story, for fear that it wouldn't be finished. I would like to let you know that it is all now written and my beta and I are doing some final tweaking.

Thank you all for your patience with this story and I really want to apologise for the gaps between updates.

I hope that you are all still interested and that you enjoy the conclusion.

Thanks for your continued support and love for this story.

Lots of Love,

Flubbles xxx


	30. Chapter 29

**A/n:** Hello! I'm back.  
I'd like to say thank you to everyone that reads this story, it's such a pleasure to do something that stirs such emotions in people and garners so much interest. I am so touched that you have all persevered with me and finally this story is now coming to a close.  
This is the first of the 4 remaining chapters, to be followed by an epilogue. With the help of my wonderful beta xoEMC, I have been able to get all of these chapters ready for posting and I am aiming for a posting schedule of a chapter every 3/4days. I won't string this out for too long for you all.

Chapter 29

Sleep eludes me. I manage a few broken hours, but nothing that you can call real slumber. I am desperate for some respite from the multitude of thoughts circling my head.

The suffocating heat of the room and the proximity of Edward exacerbate my restlessness. My limbs extend from beneath the covers in an effort to cool myself. His arm drapes loosely across my stomach like a dead-weight, and his hot breath puffs out at regular intervals, dancing over the nape of my neck. Ordinarily I would seek comfort in this contact, but it's like his ability to sleep is mocking me.

I watch the first light of day as it peeks through the gap in the curtains. It means I have been lying here awake for most of the night. I rub my face wearily and sigh. Gently lifting Edward's arm I disentangle myself from his embrace. Sliding from the bed sheets, I tiptoe like a mouse out of the room, careful not to step on any of the creaky floorboards that have become familiar. I make my way downstairs.

The kitchen is so much cooler than the top half of the house and I delight in the temperature of the stone floor beneath my bare feet. I head towards the fridge to retrieve the ground coffee, I'm hoping that this will give me a jump start. _There is much to be done today._

I set-up the stovetop espresso maker and enter the conservatory, settling myself on one of the wicker chairs as I wait for the familiar gurgling sound of brewing coffee. I gaze through the large windows as the sun continues its ascent across the orchard. The trees bathe in its amber glow as sparse wispy clouds slowly form across the skyline, interspersing with remnants of vapour trails from planes that have passed in the night.

I have to go to the house today. The lack of sleep really gave me some time to think, turning the same things over and over in my head. The wardrobe isn't just the key to that bank account I'm sure of it. There's a reason why James kept that unwieldy old hunk of furniture that I hate so much and I'll find out the answer if I have to prise off each of the damn wooden panels with my bare hands.

I want to go and start on it now, but I know realistically I need Edward's methodical approach and sheer brawn to help me with it. I do not have any desire to be alone in that house ever again. Anger flows through me as I clench my fist tightly, and narrowly resist the urge to scream at the unfairness of my current predicament. I am completely in the dark about what I suspect is my own inheritance.

I hate that he has made me feel this way, that the thought of entering my own home should reduce me to a quivering wreck. I throw back my shoulders. Well no more. When I find the information that I need we are going straight to Edward's solicitor with it. The violence, the fraud, the deception, I intend to tell them about all of it.

I need to move on with my life: Magdalen College, a career in teaching and making my own decisions, that's where my future lies. Then I will be Edward's equal. I will be in a position to see if what we have might work between us.

Of course it'll mean going away for a short while. So that I can be confident I have done something on my own for once. He'll understand, I'm sure of it. We can remain friends and keep in touch and he can write his last novel without any distractions. I sniff quietly and feel tears prick the corner of my eyes. _It's for the best, Bella. You need to do this. _

I fan my eyes with my hand to suppress the unshed tears, and breathe deeply before clearing my throat. I repeat in my head that it is indeed for the best, and try to drown out the protests of my lovesick heart.

The sound of coffee is a welcome interruption. I return to the kitchen and switch off the hob. Pouring myself a large mug of coffee I blow on the hot dark liquid, taking a sip, I feel it rejuvenate me from the inside out. Draining my cup while it is still entirely too hot, the burning sensation on my tongue and the warm feeling in my belly focuses me.

I am going to make Edward a breakfast fit for a King. It's the least I can do and the very least he deserves. I have about an hour before he needs to be woken up.

X-X-X-X-X

The bacon, sausages, black pudding and bubble and squeak cakes are keeping warm in the oven, as I get on with frying the eggs and the tomato halves. A fresh pot of coffee has been brewed and it sits on the table next to a carton of orange juice. Edward doesn't own a jug.

As I survey the higgledy-piggledy state of the table I can't help but smile to myself. Edward's favourite mug sits next to his plate and the mug he bought for me sits next to my own plate, which has a different pattern to his. I refuse to have my hot drinks in anything else now and he is equally particular about his drinking vessel.

The cutlery matches at least, but there isn't a full set. The number of spoons, forks and knives differ entirely and they are constantly multiplying or depleting. It's so refreshing.

A full rack of toast, a butter dish and an assortment of condiments and preserves stand together in a group on the table. I've noticed that Edward seems to treat his toast like a two course meal. Starting with something savoury for his first slice like Gentlemen's relish or Marmite, and then moving on to his sweet course of marmalade or conserve. It's baffling and his preferences are constantly changing; the table almost looks like a supermarket shelf.

I return my attention to the eggs, making sure the yolk is runny- a fundamental sign of a well cooked egg in my opinion. Absorbed in the task at hand, I almost drop the spatula as I feel Edward's arms encircle my waist.

"Mm, something smells delicious." He rests his chin on my shoulder and presses his face into my hair, breathing deeply.

"I decided to make breakfast for you." I answer kindly, trying my best to grip the pan-handle with my cast hand.

"I wasn't talking about the food." He murmurs as he slides the hair from my neck and places a small kiss on the freshly exposed skin.

I moan contentedly, my eyes closing.

"But..." he kisses my neck.

"Now that you mention it..." another slow kiss.

"I am rather hungry."

He nips my ear lobe and then releases me, leaning up against the counter next to me, a boyish grin on his face.

I smile back at him and shake my head. Satisfied that the eggs are done I retrieve the other items from the oven. I swat Edward's hand away with the spatula as he tries to grab a piece of bacon, he pouts at me and I give him a no-nonsense look.

"It's almost ready, why don't you sit at the table and I'll bring the food over."

"You don't need me to help with anything?" He surveys the kitchen, looking for some mess to clean or something to help with.

"No, I have it all under control. You could put this on the table though. Be careful it's hot." I hand the plate and towel over to Edward. He takes it willingly and pops a piece of bacon in his mouth when he thinks I'm not looking.

I wasn't looking, but the sound of him gasping for breath and hurriedly pouring a glass of juice and gulping it down is a huge clue.

I smile at him and shake my head as I serve up the eggs and tomatoes before making my way to the table.

"Juice?" Edward enquires, hovering above my glass with the carton.

"Please." I watch as he pours some for us both and then sets about filling his plate with food.

As he covers his toast in Gentleman's relish I grimace at the foul smelling paste. He looks up and catches me watching him.

"You want some?" he grins cheekily, knowing that I cannot stand the repulsive anchovy paste.

"No thank you." I answer in my most prim sounding voice as I reach for the apricot jam and spread it liberally on my own toast.

"Bella this is really delicious. Thank you so much. If you keep cooking for me like this, I'm going to have to take up rowing again or something." He munches through his food making appreciative sounds between mouthfuls.

"Rowing?" I enquire before placing a forkful of food in my mouth.

"Mm-hm." Edward reaches for the coffee and pours us both some without even asking, knowing I'll want some too. I watch as he adds milk and sugar for me. I'll enjoy this cup much more than my earlier reviver.

Taking a sip of his drink, he swallows and then begins speaking.

"I was on the varsity rowing team for St Catherine's College, we were pretty good actually. The early morning training was awful. The Thames can be pretty cold at 6am on a spring morning. Not to mention the running, swimming and gym time. The parties made up for it though." He shudders and smiles to himself wistfully.

"You have so many hidden depths, Mr Cullen." I muse before taking a bite of my food.

He chuckles and busies himself with his fully loaded plate of food. I watch him as he eats. He has commendable table manners in comparison to James. No slurping, or elbows on the table and he's so much more appreciative. It takes me back to the first night I cooked for him, that fateful dinner party. At the time I never would've dreamt I'd be sitting here now.

"You must've been up pretty early to prepare all of this." Edward looks at me and raises his eyebrows questioningly.

"I was having difficulty sleeping, so I thought I'd get up and do something productive." I shrug and avoid his gaze by staring down at my plate and pushing my food around with the fork.

"Anything you want to talk about?" He reaches out a hand and rubs my upper arm.

I place my hand on top of his and look him in the face, my head tilting to one side.

"I've just been thinking about everything we discovered yesterday." I pause and lick my lips, choosing my words carefully.

"I don't believe that 'wardrobe' is just the answer to the banking questions." Edward looks at me curiously and nods for me to go on.

"Do you remember the wardrobe...in the bedroom I shared with James?" My voice drops and my breathing quickens as I think back to the awful times I have endured in that house and room.

"Hey shh, it's ok, you're completely safe now. Yes, I remember the wardrobe." Edward places his hands either side of my head and rubs my cheeks softly with his thumbs. I close my eyes and breathe deeply.

"I think there is something in that wardrobe, documents or details about my parents. James was just so protective of it, so insistent we kept it when my parents passed." My voice is shaky as I reveal my suspicions to Edward.

"I just can't believe that there isn't anything in the house. I was able to hide things from him for years." I blush thinking back to Edward's books and magazine cuttings that I kept hidden.

"I agree. It does seem strange that there is nothing in that house that could further implicate him. I think the wardrobe is a good place to start." He squeezes my hand and turns his attention back to his food.

"Did you want to go over there after we finish this?" He motions at our plates with his fork.

"Yes please, the sooner the better. I don't want to get my hopes up, just to have them dashed."

I place my knife and fork together and push my plate away. James still has the ability to impact so many of the good things in my life. Thoughts of him leave an unpleasant taste in my mouth.

"Sorry, I really can't eat anymore. Don't mind me, please finish yours. I'll go and get ready." I rise slowly from the table.

"You're sure?" His face a picture of concern.

"Yes, honestly. Don't let it go to waste." I wrap my arm around his neck and kiss the top of his head, he clasps my arm and kisses the inside of my wrist. I pull away gently and slowly make my way out of the room.

My shoulders slump as I hear him sigh deeply and push his own plate of food away. I feel guilty for allowing James to ruin the special breakfast I made for him.

X-X-X-X-X

We stand hand in hand staring at the wardrobe. I take a deep breath in and release Edward's hand so that I can fling open both the doors, bare coat-hangers and some of James clothes hang there. I take a step closer, looking over my shoulder at Edward I motion with my hand for him to do the same.

He joins me and we run our hands over the old wooden lump of history. My eagle eyes inspect every inch of its hard form. I scratch at the panels and the joints with my fingernails, trying to find any irregularities, a chink in the armour. Right in the back, I see a panel that juts out slightly compared to the matching one on the other side; the panel is the size of an A3 piece of paper.

I grip it with my nails and gently try to prise it away. Feeling some movement I gasp and pull back my hands in shock. Edward stops his inspection and peeks from round his side of the wardrobe.

"What is it? Have you found something?" His face lights up with hope.

I nod and point at the panel that I have dislodged slightly. Edward gets to work straight away and has the panel out in seconds. Placing it against the wall, he peers into the gap and I hear him let out a low whistle.

"What's there?" My voice is a whisper; I almost don't want to know.

"You need to see this. The wardrobe has a false back. There are a lot of documents stored back here." He shakes his head sadly and runs his hands through his hair.

I stand next to him and look into the space. He's right. There is a large gap between the false back and the real back of the wardrobe. The gap is full of files, all stacked neatly and labelled. I read the labels that I can easily see in the dimly lit space: 'Swan paperwork'; 'Swan Accountancy Ltd'; 'Properties' and 'Banking'. I feel sick, and clutching my stomach I fall back against Edward. He takes my weight and leads me to the window-seat.

I open my mouth to speak, but before any words come out I hear the front door open and the sound of familiar voices in the hallway.

"James darling, I really don't see why you feel the need to return here. Surely there's nothing left here that can be of any interest to you."

The nasal tone of James' mother filters up the stairs. I snap my head round to look at Edward and I know that he recognises the voice from the hospital. I feel his protective grip on me tighten.

"I told you, woman, I have some documents here that I really need to collect. I can't trust anyone else to do it for me. This is the first chance I've had since leaving the hospital and dealing with the police." He sounds infuriated.

"Yes, but dear she only lives next door. You're breaking the conditions of the restraining order just by being here." She pleads.

"Don't you think I know that? If you'd stop wasting my time by pointing out the obvious I could get this done a lot quicker and we could be out of here. If you want to do something really useful, why don't you go and wait for me in the car." His tone is vicious and I hear her sniffle as her footsteps shuffle towards the door.

I hold my breath as I hear him walk up the stairs, getting closer to the bedroom. He's come for the documents in the wardrobe. He wants to remove the evidence.

Edward rises and stands in front of me, protecting me with his frame. I watch his hands clench into fists.

"Shut the wardrobe doors and then come and stand behind me." His speaks quietly and calmly, his tone indicates that I'm to do exactly as he says.

I close the wardrobe doors, but come to stand by his side instead. I look up at him. He smiles bitterly and shakes his head at me, but doesn't challenge me.

I see James when he reaches the top of the stairs. If he's shocked to see us, he doesn't let it show. He looks tired and a little thinner; his face is unshaven. I don't think I've ever seen him dressed so casually. The cruel glint is still present in his eye and an involuntary shiver journeys down my spine.

"Well, isn't this cosy. What are you two doing here?" He smirks and crosses his arms.

Standing ten paces from us, it's the closest I've been to him since that night. I stare straight-ahead refusing to let him sense any fear.

"We could ask you the same thing James." Edward speaks coolly.

"Still speaking for the pathetic little mouse, eh Cullen?" he scoffs.

"I don't need Edward to speak for me. You're breaking the conditions of your release by being here." I straighten up, my voice grave, trying to make myself appear stronger.

"This is my home. I have every right to be here you stupid little bitch." He rocks back on his heels.

"Don't you ever talk to her like that again, you piece of shit." Edward's jaw is set and his hands are still shaped like fists. He takes a step closer to James, daring him to move closer.

I place my hand on his arm and he looks down at me. I shake my head gently to show it doesn't affect me.

"Only it's never really been your home has it, James?" I raise an eyebrow and smile knowingly at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He scowls.

"I know about the money, my Father's accountancy firm, all of it." I try to sound strong, but on the inside I'm flurry of different emotions.

"I don't know what you're talking about. It's your word against mine. Good luck proving it." He shrugs arrogantly.

"I think I have everything I need." I cross my arms confidently.

"And what might that be? I know you don't have that statement anymore."

"I have the Narnian gateway." I wait for my words to sink in.

"I don't know what you mean." He tries to appear unshaken, but his eyes betray him and his hands twitch as he adjusts the collar of his polo shirt.

"I mean the contents of that is all the evidence I need." I point at the wardrobe.

"And, I know that's what you're here for too. You're not taking anything from this house." I take a step closer to him and continue to speak, my voice rising.

"I despise you and the way you have treated me over the years. All of that information is going to my solicitor and you are going to be penniless. I will make sure of that.

I rue the day I met you, how could I have ever been foolish enough to love you? How can anyone love you? You're cruel and manipulative, you want to own people like they're possessions. You're pathetic and incapable of empathy." I speak through gritted teeth as I tingle with emotion. I find myself walking closer to him. Lashing out I catch him unaware and I strike him.

He covers his head with his hands and as he cowers beneath me, I hit him again and again with the palms of my hands as I hurl abuse at him. Cursing him for the years of torment, a black cloud comes over me and I am consumed with hatred and despair. I barely notice his sobbing as Edward pulls me off him.

"Come on Bella, he's had enough. The police are on their way." I become so immersed in the moment I forget Edward is even here. I slump into his arms exhausted and sob quietly, feeling disgusted that I stooped to his level.

"What have I done? I'm no better than him." I sob into his shirt.

"Oh Bella, of course you are, you've just been pushed to the edge." I bury my face in Edward's chest as I hear James sniffing and breathing raggedly in the background. _Turning my back on that broken man no longer seems such a threatening prospect. _

X-X-X-X-X

Relaxing from my long bath and swathed in a terry dressing gown I warm myself in front of the roaring fire. I wrap my arms around my legs and rest my head on my knees. Closing my eyes I sigh as I despair of how I lowered myself to James' standards. I cannot believe I attacked him. I was so overcome with rage I completely forgot myself.

Edward called the police while I was castigating James; I didn't even hear him make the call. I was so relieved when they arrested James for breaking his restraining order. I felt pity for the police, taking him away meant they had to deal with his mother. She was so relentless they almost had to arrest her for verbally assaulting an officer.

After they left we spent hours sifting through the files in the wardrobe. I still can't quite believe that for all those years I was sleeping in the same room as my freedom. Mountains of paperwork, covering the sale of my parent's house, numerous bank statements, share portfolios, a few bundles of money, my father's old household accounting books and the deeds for our home. Both of my parent's wills and my missing passport were also there.

A personal file of James' contained pictures of us when we were dating and our wedding, along with a diary of mine that I kept at University. I thought I lost it, but obviously James stole it. This provided a chronology of his deceit. I decided there and then that I am going to burn that file; the police don't need it. If he ever found any of that dear to him, I want him to feel like I did when he burnt the possessions of mine that I treasured.

Now that I have proof of James' fraud all that is left of this chapter of my life is to get divorced from the duplicitous sneak.

I hear Edward come into the room. I look up and smile wearily at him. I stare gratefully at the glasses of wine in his hand. He passes a glass to me and sets his on the small table near to us. I take a sip of the fruity liquid and hum as the spicy drink flows past my lips.

"Oh, I needed that." My eyes flutter closed as I cradle the glass and bask in the warmth of the fire.

"That's what I thought." Murmurs Edward as he places a kiss on the top of my head and kneels behind me, massaging my shoulders. I press myself into his hands and moan with pleasure as he gently manipulates my tired muscles.

"Good?" He enquires, his breath tickling my ear.

"Wonderful."

He stops massaging me and I grumble lightly. Before I realise it, he's pulling me into a hug, his legs stretch out alongside mine so that I am pressed up against his chest.

"It's all over now isn't it, Edward?" My body tenses as I wait for his answer.

"Yes, it's all in the hands of the police and our solicitor now. There is more than enough evidence to prove the money is yours and its movements can all be tracked. I can't promise it'll be quick, but at least things are in motion now. " He squeezes me reassuringly and I relax noticeably.

"I want to divorce him, I want him out of my life permanently." My voice comes out strong and clear.

"I've been thinking a lot about my future." I set my wine down and turn to look over my shoulder at him.

"I want to sell the house and go back to University. I want to get my teaching qualifications." I smile at him.

"I'm so pleased to hear you planning for your future. I'm so proud of you." He leans forward and kisses me deeply. I pour myself into the kiss.

I'm not ready to tell him yet that I want to do this on my own. I need him too much tonight. I will tell him soon. I must.

**A/n:** Hmm new Bella is emerging...  
Well I hope my return was everything you wished for, see you at the next chapter. If you get a chance please leave a review, I love reading them and I actually have time to reply now.  
Flubbles x


	31. Chapter 30

**A/n: **Well I told you all it wouldn't be long between chapters! Hopefully you'll all remember the last chapter still! This was re-written quite a few times and as usual the lovely xoEMC was integral to the improvement of this chapter. Enjoy x

Chapter 30

I hear his cheerful whistling as the gate hinges creak and he walks up the garden path. My pulse quickens as the light through the glass in the front door is distorted by his frame. My legs fidget and I wrap my arms around myself to stop me from twitching as I sit on the bottom step of the stairs.

Time seems to stop; there is no sound, no breathing, I am transfixed as my eyes stare at the letterbox. The post makes its way through the slot and lands on the mat as if in slow motion. I spring into action, pouncing like a cat in the direction of the scattered envelopes. I sift through the usual array of junk mail, gardening catalogues and fan-mail – a devoted few have managed to find Edward's address, thankfully they haven't started camping out here.

I spread the post around the floor, and there poking out from under another letter is an official looking envelope. I sink to my knees and reach out a shaking hand, my eyes stare at the familiar crest of Oxford University. I assess the weight and thickness of the envelope, trying to ascertain whether its contents offer me acceptance or rejection.

I clutch it to my chest and closing my eyes I mutter a prayer under my breath.

"Please be a yes, please be a yes."

I squirm with nervous energy, unable to bring myself to open the letter. This could spell the start of a huge opportunity, or it could confirm my worst fears that I'm not good enough for Oxford.

"Bella..? Are you coming back to bed?" Edward's sleepy voice filters down the stairs.

I remain in my spot.

"It's arrived." My voice hangs in the air.

"The letter from Oxford. It's here." My voice sounds distant as I try to speak loud enough for him to hear me.

I smile gratefully, as I hear him leap out of bed and come thundering down the stairs at full speed.

"It's here? Really? What does it say?" He comes to kneel next to me. He is almost out of breath with excitement.

His eyes are wide as he looks at me expectantly, a huge grin plastered on his face, his hair sticking up in every possible direction, hands outstretched in a show of interest. My eyes dance over his bare chest and stop when they reach the waistband of his pyjamas.

I chew on my bottom lip as I stare down at my lap and show him the unopened envelope.

"Ah, I see."

I look up to see an amused smile on his face.

He reaches out to me and wraps his strong arms around me, clutching me to his chest as I hold the letter as if it's made of glass.

"You know you have to open it to see what it says." He talks into my hair and I hear the smile in his voice.

"I know. I just want to be in denial for a little bit longer." I take a deep breath and pull away from Edward's embrace.

"Will you open it for me... please?" I smile sweetly, batting my eyelashes.

"Oh no, Bella, you need to do this." He looks at me stubbornly and crosses his arms.

"I know." I sigh.

"But what if I don't get in?" My shoulders slump and I look down at my lap.

"If, you don't get in..." He stresses the 'IF'.

"You can always re-apply, or try another university. Or... stay and help me in the orchard full-time." He smiles at me deviously.

He's desperately been trying to persuade me to stay and help him turn the orchard into a profit-making cider farm and to help renovate this house.

It's not that I don't want to help him, but I just hate living so close to the remnants of my old life and I have things that I want to achieve for myself first.

"Edward we've talked about this. I do want to help you with the orchard, but I need to get my life back on track as well."

I feel bad for snapping at him and I give his hand a squeeze.

I want to help him and make him happy. I really do. But I'm not going to put everyone else before me like I did with James. It's time to be a bit more selfish.

The past few months have been draining, taken up with a host of unpleasant but necessary tasks. The arduous ordeal that was James' trial took weeks. Long days in court, waiting to be called for evidence, my private life laid bare for public discussion. Parts of it were humiliating. Seeing it all there in black and white, I struggle to understand why I stayed for so long.

Even I find it difficult to have sympathy for myself. I was so weak back then. Did I really think a dysfunctional marriage was better than no marriage.

I'll never forget the moment the judge announced his sentencing. I had never seen James weep before. He was a broken man. He was unable to walk as they took him away to the holding cells; the guards had to half-drag his whimpering frame. Seeing him like that didn't bring me any pleasure. I actually felt sorry for him and it was in that moment I knew that I was nothing like him.

He received 10 years imprisonment, to be served immediately for numerous counts of fraud, physical and mental violence, assault and criminal damage.

Edward's lawyers really went to town on him; the information they found was exhaustive. My parent's death left me a very wealthy woman. Thankfully James had been very sensible with the money. Apart from a few purchases, he had invested a lot of the money wisely in a variety of bank accounts, shares and property.

It transpired that James had bribed the Solicitor reading the will - he made an offer of a substantial amount of money to 'leave out' certain details from the reading. This was how he set about pulling the wool over my eyes and continued to do so for many more years.

As a result of the meticulous level of detail he kept, it was apparently possible to trace the vast majority of the funds back to me, meaning that the inheritance could be returned. It seems that James was working on a plan to move away, but he was biding his time so that he could divorce me and the money would be untraceable; I would be left penniless and he would take all of the money.

He asked me to visit him in prison. I declined. I have no desire to see him again. I wrote to him, telling him I wanted a divorce on the grounds of 'unreasonable behaviour'. There were only two things I needed to ask him, both of which he answered in a letter when he granted me the divorce.

In his words, the death of my parents was an 'unfortunate accident that he used to his advantage' and he had no hand in it. He also confirmed that in his own way he did indeed love me.

I burnt the letter along with all the photos of the pair of us, and I gave my wedding ring to a pawnbroker. I then set things in motion for the sale of our house. The relief of carrying out these tasks was palpable. I told Edward I wanted to give the money from the house sale to a charity for victims of domestic abuse.

I couldn't face clearing the place up for sale. So after the police gave us the go-ahead Edward arranged for a company to tidy the place up and get it ready for viewings. It went on the market yesterday. I don't know how I feel about the thought of someone living in that house. I just hope that they can be happy there. So much anger and despair occurred under that roof, it's almost like it's contained within the walls.

I shudder at my dark thoughts. It all seems like a life-time away, as though it happened to another person. It's amazing how quickly the human spirit can repair itself.

As if it's physical proof of how much I've moved on, I marvel at the letter in my hands. Taking a deep breath I slowly turn it over. Prising open the envelope I take the letter out, even if they do reject me, I'll get through it. _I'm stronger now. _

I look at Edward and smile. I shake my head and straighten my shoulders. He smiles back, reaching a hand out he brushes a lock of hair off my face and kisses me gently on the forehead.

"I believe in you." He whispers in my ear and then pulls away, crossing his fingers on both hands and staring at me expectantly.

I deftly unfold the letter and scan the text on the page, my eyes seeking out only the important words.

_Thank you for your application...as you know we receive a high level of requests._

Yes, blah, blah, my eyes move on to the next paragraph.

_...such an oversubscribed course...not all applicants are successful..._

My nerves increase a level, I feel my chest tighten as I prepare myself for the worst.

_However we were so impressed with your application...we would like to invite you to embark upon a Postgraduate Certificate in Education..._

Wait...What?

I read it again, my eyes feasting on every word...

_We would like to invite you to embark upon a Postgraduate Certificate in Education with Oxford University. A place has been reserved at your nominated college - 'Magdalen College'. _

As it finally sinks in, I look at Edward, and letting out a scream of joy I launch myself into his arms.

"I did it, I got in!" I laugh disbelievingly.

I wrap my arms tightly round his neck and continue to squeal excitedly in his ear as I clutch the letter.

"You did? I knew you could do it. Congratulations." Edward grabs me round the waist and hoists me into the air, swinging me around.

"Oh Edward, I'm so pleased. I got into Magdalen!" I squeeze him as tightly as I can and kiss him roughly on the lips, moaning with pleasure.

He hums gently and kisses me back, walking forward while still embracing me, and pinning me between him and the wall. I forget myself in his kiss, dropping the crumpled letter to the ground and grabbing fistfuls of his silken hair. His hands grip my pyjama-clad bottom and pull me into him.

I'm breathless as we kiss each other. He pulls away and smiles widely at me.

"I'm so proud of you." He kisses me on the forehead. I beam at the praise.

"Well this means we have to go out and celebrate tonight." He raises his eyebrows at me.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea. What do you have in mind?" I smile back mischievously.

"Hmm, let me see. Some Champagne..." a kiss is placed on my lips.

"..Some good food..." another kiss, "perhaps a little dancing..." He sways me gently as he says this and places another sweet kiss on my lips.

"And definitely lots more of these." My eyes close lazily as he leans in for another kiss and I murmur my approval at his suggestions.

X-X-X-X-X

We clink our glasses together and I take a sip of the cold, crisp champagne, delighting at the way the bubbles tickle my tongue.

Edward raises his glass and looks at me, clearing his throat he speaks.

"To Miss Swan, congratulations. I know you're going to be a wonderful teacher." The familiar heat creeps up my neck and cheeks as I feel myself blush at his words.

"Just the minor detail of passing the course first, Edward." I smile at him unable to remember the last time I was this happy.

"Of course I am already planning my classroom and wondering what my children will be like." I grin and chink my glass with his. He smiles at my confidence and sips from his drink.

He looks so handsome tonight, in a tailor-made white shirt that fits perfectly with dark grey trousers and tan leather shoes. His hair looks silky soft and the aftershave he's wearing smells divine. Watching him get ready earlier was mesmerizing. His physique is delicious. I struggle to keep my hands off him and I don't bother to keep my eyes off him.

"Bella? Are you with us?" He smiles at my daydreaming.

"Sorry yes, I was just day-dreaming..." I smile to myself smugly and take another sip of my drink.

Edward has bought us to the most amazing 18th Century Coaching Inn, the old stonework and low ceilings create the most amazingly romantic atmosphere. It's complimented beautifully by the deep burgundy coloured walls and the low candlelight that brings out the bronze in his hair.

The exposed oak beams overhead and the scent of the open fire intermingled with the delicious smells emanating from the kitchen give the place a comfortable homely feel. It's almost like being transported back in time.

They serve us some of the most delicious food. I enjoy a plate of scallops and black pudding with a salad garnish as Edward tucks into his pigeon breast on a potato cake. I watch as he chews his food thoughtfully. Feeling bold, I gently slip off my shoe and brush my stocking clad foot up and down his calf.

He momentarily stops chewing and raises an eyebrow before smiling to himself like the cat that got the cream. I wink back conspiratorially and take a sip of champagne.

More food is bought to us, rich main courses of Beef Wellington and braised lamb with seasonal vegetables, which we wash down with fruity red wine. I don't think I've ever eaten so much.

We agree to share a dessert and I'm so grateful we did when they serve up the generous homely looking portion of sticky toffee pudding, smothered in toffee sauce and clotted cream. I reach for a spoon and cutting off a corner I offer it to Edward.

He opens his mouth and closes his eyes as I slide the spoon into his mouth. I remove it slowly as his lips close around the spoon. His face reminds me of the first time he ate a piece of my cake; it's as if I'm transported back in time.

He chews and swallows slowly before opening his eyes and taking my hand that rests on the table.

"It's good, but it's no lemon drizzle cake." He whispers and smiles at me.

I don't know if it's the alcohol or the fact that we are on the same wavelength, but I feel my eyes glaze over. I sniff quietly and dab at my eyes with the napkin.

"Hey, did I say something wrong?" He rubs the back of my hand with his thumb and tilts his head to one side.

"No, you said exactly what I was thinking. I'm sorry, I'm being silly. I'm just so happy the way things have worked out." I speak softly and smile at him wistfully.

"As long as that's all?" He searches my face for a sign that something else may be upsetting me.

"Well, it might be all the alcohol as well." I motion at my empty wine glasses and blush.

"Oh, then we should get some of this dessert in you to soak up all of that booze." He scoops up a huge mouthful of cake and brandishes it in front of me cheekily.

"Oh no, you can have that one." I hold up my hands in defeat.

"Oh Bella, I'm sure you could manage this. Look how moist and delicious it looks." He licks his lips exaggeratedly and moves the spoon closer.

Giggling, I playfully push the spoon away. We squabble like children pushing the spoon back and forth. Somehow the spoon ends up in Edward's mouth, but not before smearing toffee sauce all over his face. I laugh loudly and then look around to see that some of the other diners are staring at our sudden outburst.

We laugh quietly, our shoulders shaking as we try to look remorseful, but this just seems to make the exchange funnier. I reach out a finger and boldly wipe the sauce from Edward's face. I pop my finger in my mouth and suck it clean, staring at Edward as I do so. His eyes widen at my boldness.

"Mmm you're right it is moist and delicious." I watch as Edward readjusts in his seat and I see the hint of a blush. I grin at his reaction and give him a soft wet kiss on the cheek.

"Bella, you're despicable. If only you knew what you are doing to me." He shakes his head and takes a sip of his wine.

I take a victory bite of cake and smile at him mischievously.

We finish our dessert and I swear Edward is trying to get me drunk as he orders a calvados for himself and an amaretto for me. We leave our table and retire with our drinks to one of the secluded snugs, taking up a seat on a leather studded sofa next to an open fire.

I lean into Edward. He slips an arm around my shoulders and my head rests on his chest. I take off my shoes and tuck my feet underneath me. He slides a hand down to rest on my leg as he gently strokes my thigh. I play absently with the buttons on his shirt. Sighing I press myself closer into him.

"That was a big sigh. Miss Swan." He murmurs as he kisses the top of my head.

"It was a sigh of contentment, Mr Cullen." I close my eyes and drag my fingers lazily up and down his chest, imaging him bare beneath my fingers.

"Mmm that's nice to hear. I've had a wonderful evening. You look so beautiful tonight." He plays with the hem of my dress as he speaks, his voice low and husky.

"You've changed so much over the past few months." He links his fingers with mine.

"I'm so proud of you Bella and all that you've accomplished." He brings my hand up to his lips and kisses the knuckles.

I slide my hand to cup the side his face and I turn to look up at him.

"You've been a big help." I lean in to kiss him, but he pulls back slightly and places a finger to my lips.

"I've loved watching you change over the time I've known you. Your feistiness and blossoming strength of character," he takes his finger away and blinks at me, "is pretty damn sexy to watch."

I lean in and this time he lets me kiss him, lips part, fingers find their way into each other's hair. I groan quietly as I open my mouth and his tongue slides in, meeting mine.

We press up against each other. Edward's hands travel up my back and pull me closer to him. We deepen our kiss, my fingers caress the back of his neck, as all thoughts of our surroundings leave my head as we enjoy each other. I'm ready to be with him tonight. This feels so right. I want him to make love to me.

Edward gently pulls away, breathing raggedly. He clears his throat. I stare at him..

"Are you comfortable with this?"

"Most definitely, I want to be with you. I'm ready." I answer confidently.

"Then, I'm going to call us a taxi." He rises.

"A taxi? But you promised me drinks, food and dancing. Where's the dancing?" I ask jokingly, referring to our earlier conversation.

"Fuck the dancing." He murmurs and grabs the glass of calvados draining it in one mouthful.

"I want to get you home." He grins like a little boy and leaves the snug to use his phone.

I smile smugly to myself as I sip the sweet amaretto, tonight is going to be amazing, I am so glad to be free of my cast.

I am unbelievably ready for him.

X-X-X-X-X

I hear the front door slam, but it sounds so far away. My eyes are closed and my lips are firmly planted on Edward's. I try to shrug out of my coat. He pulls away and gently slides it off my shoulders. I let it fall to the floor and slide my arms up and round Edward's neck, loosening his coat and dropping his to the ground.

We fuse together as I roughly push him back against the door. I take his lower lip between mine and bite it playfully before kissing my way down his neck to the inside of his shirt collar. My head becomes clouded with passion.

"Bella, are you sure you're ready for this?"

I stop my kisses and huff. Lifting my head up I look him in the eye.

"I want this so badly, Edward. I've never wanted anything this much."

He leans in and kisses me hard, then grabs me round the waist and under the knees scooping me into his arms. I let out a startled yelp and laugh as he carries me up the stairs.

After carrying me into the bedroom he stands me in the middle of the room.

"Wait right there." He gives my shoulders a squeeze and turns on one of the small table lamps, bathing the room in a soft flattering light. I stand impatiently as I wait to see what he'll do next.

He stalks up behind me and sweeps my hair over one shoulder, kissing the exposed skin. I shudder and parting my lips I moan.

"Is that good?" He speaks against my skin.

"So good." I whisper, as his breath dances on my skin.

His hands slide round my front and position themselves on my hips, his fingers splay out and hover near the tops of my legs. I feel myself becoming aroused; I tingle all over. He presses himself into me. I can feel his erection near the small of my back. I grind against it and a moan of pleasure escapes from his lips.

His hands graze up my body, skimming over my breasts and coming to rest on my shoulders. He rubs them gently before arriving at the zip on the reverse of my dress.

Deftly he opens the zip, eliciting an appreciative moan from me. He gently peels back the fabric, kissing each shoulder blade as they become exposed to him and tracing the fabric of my bra straps with his fingers.

I whimper.

It's so unpredictable. I don't know what to expect from him next so I give in to him completely, enjoying the pleasure of his caresses on my skin.

"Your skin is so soft, it's perfection."

I smile to myself at the compliment.

He slides the dress from me and I let it fall to the floor and step out of it slowly. Spinning around I stand to face him. His eyes are half closed and he looks so sultry. I lean in and capture his mouth in a kiss. He embraces me greedily and traces his hands down my back. Cupping my bottom he lifts me effortlessly. I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.

Carrying me to the bed he sets me down and kneels to remove my heels. I sit upright and stare down at him, my legs open wide, my hands either side of my hips. I watch wide-eyed as he slips off my heels one at time and gently massages each foot. He walks his fingers up my left leg; I shiver as it tickles. He stops at the clasps of my stockings, gently releasing the clips, he rolls the fabric down my thighs and off my legs.

It feels divine, I grip the bedclothes in my hands and watch him intently. The cool air of the room on my skin is almost more than I can manage. As he removes my other stocking I become more aroused.

I feel his lips on my inner thigh, they ghost along the inside of my leg working up to my underwear. His lips kiss the silky fabric between my legs. I groan at the closeness, raising my hips to grind closer to him, tingling where his lips just were.

"Mmm, so warm. You smell wonderful."

He kisses me there once more for longer this time before moving down my other leg and stopping at the knee.

Rising he unbuttons his shirt, I instantly miss his closeness and I reach out my hands to him. He practically rips off his shirt and slips out of his trousers, socks and shoes in less than half the time it took him to undress me.

Standing in just his Calvin's I marvel at how handsome he is with his sculpted chest and bronzed skin from working in the orchard. I want to kiss him all over, to taste every inch of him.

He comes back to stand in front of me. I reach forward and kiss his stomach just above the line of his pants. He reaches his hands down to remove my bra, skilfully undoing the clasp before throwing the scrap of material across the room. His warm hands cup my breasts, massaging them gently while his lips assault my neck. I kiss his exposed shoulder, nipping lightly, my fingers press into his shoulder blades.

He slides his hands off my breasts and places them on my shoulders, pushing me back lightly.

"Lay down." His voice is low and husky.

"With pleasure." I move back, sinking into the soft mattress.

He reaches for my knickers and hooks a finger under each side.

"Is this okay?"

"God yes!" I lift my hips and he slides them down my legs.

He makes his way up my legs, gripping and massaging my calves and rubbing behind my knee. He pulls my legs apart and blows gently between my legs. I tremble at the coolness on the heat between my legs.

"Oh Edward." I moan.

He strokes my lips gently, sliding a finger past them and easing gently inside me.

"You're so wet." I raise my hips and reaching a hand down to rest on his I push his fingers in further, his thumb brushing against my clitoris.

I buck against his hand as his fingers move in and out, his thumb grazing against me.

He places little kisses near my belly button and reaches a hand round to squeeze my bum, massaging it. His fingers continue their actions, causing me to moan aloud as he gives me more and more pleasure.

I grind against him, lifting myself off the bed in time with his hand.

"Please, Edward, it's not enough, I want you." I beg him, as I use my hand to push him in and out of me harder and harder.

"Where? Where do you want me?"

"In me., I want to feel you in me." I place my hands either side of his face and guide him up to me. He lays on top of me, supporting his own weight with his arms.

We kiss passionately. I feel him pressing against me. I become even more aroused, not thinking it is possible. He moves down my neck kissing around my breasts and capturing a nipple between his lips. His tongue swirls around it.

I reach down with my hand and grab his hand, pressing it to my other breast. I bring my legs up to wrap around his waist and I grind against his erection. The feeling of the cloth on my bare skin feels divine.

I reach my hands down his back, scratching lightly as I go, tugging at the material of his underwear. Aware of what I'm trying to do he slides a hand down and helps me remove his Calvin's. I reach my hand out and stroke his penis, it's so hard in my hand.

He lets out a low, guttural moan and I stroke him back and forth as he moves his hand between my legs and strokes me gently, his fingers manipulating me. He stops to reach for a condom and deftly rips open the wrapper with his teeth before placing it over his erection.

I reposition my hips so that I am beneath Edward, the tip of him resting against me. He looks me straight in the eye, his face seeking confirmation.

I nod and lift my head to kiss him as he slides inside me.

Feeling him inch inside me I shudder with pleasure as he slowly fills me. He sucks gently on my nipple as he begins to move in and out of me. His hand slides down my stomach and his fingers come between us to touch me.

I throw my head back in pleasure.

He moves his mouth to my other breast and my fingernails dig into his shoulder blades, trying to pull him even closer to me.

"Oh god, Edward. That is so good." My breathing is hurried.

Every inch of me feels like it is on fire, my skin is so responsive to his touch. I place a finger under his chin and guide his face back up to mine. I kiss him and move in time with his thrusts, his fingers massage me easily. I'm so wet for him.

The pleasure that courses through me is like nothing I have ever experienced before. I moan loudly as I feel him go deeper with each thrust. His hands reach round to the small of my back and he begins to thrust into me more roughly.

I throw my arms around his waist and lifting my pelvis as pleasure takes over. We rock in time with each other. Each thrust brings me closer and closer to climax. I grind up against him, my fingers gripping his bum, pulling him in and out of me desperately. I've never felt this way before.

His tender touches and caresses become a little rougher as we are completely consumed with each other. I feel like I'm on fire. Our hurried breath, fingers in hair, lips on skin, it all becomes too much for me.

"Oh Edward" is all I can manage as I feel myself clench around him. I am consumed with pleasure. Whimpering I feel myself orgasm as he continues to kiss me while rocking inside me.

"You're so perfect." He kisses me on the lips and then wraps me in his arms as he thrusts once more and releases inside me with a satisfied groan of pleasure.

Sliding off me, he scoops me into his arms and places a kiss on top of my head. I hum with pleasure.

"Are you okay?"

"More than okay, Edward. That was worth cancelling the dancing for."

Chuckling he kisses me again and turns out the light. I drift off to sleep, safe in his arms.

**A/n: **Hmmm, would it be too much to ask for a review?


	32. Chapter 31

**A/n:**Another chapter, hope you enjoy it! Thanks to xoEMC as usual! Thank you all of you for the reviews, I am amazed how many of you are still invested in this.

Chapter 31

I tap the Mont Blanc pen Edward gave me against my cheek and stare at my ever-increasing to-do list. A few months have passed since I received the acceptance letter from Oxford. Now that I am going to be studying there I have so many things to organise. I've been living in a bit of a bubble and everything is suddenly gathering pace.

I'm not complaining, there is just so much to get my head around I'm becoming a little overwhelmed. _Fail to prepare, prepare to fail! _That's what Mother always said.

Edward is still asleep. I came downstairs as soon as the sun began to rise, I couldn't lie there awake any longer. His presence in the bed was becoming oppressive.

We continue to share a bed, however there hasn't been a repeat of our night of pleasure. I don't regret making love with Edward - _who would!_ It's so much more than it ever was with James, but a part of me was completely caught up in the emotion of the moment.

Afterwards things felt different between us, like they were moving too quickly. I love how affectionate Edward is, but I feel that it's too much too soon. I still crave and enjoy his tenderness and the comfort of having him near, but I don't think a sexual relationship is right for either of us at the moment.

There are still long lazy days of cuddling, and kissing him in the orchard under the afternoon sun is becoming one of my favourite past-times.

It's possible I'm being entirely selfish, but Edward hasn't expressed any concerns about the lack of physicality. We haven't really discussed whether Edward would like us to be more intimate. He just says he's happy as long as I am.

I hope he still feels that way when I discuss the first item on my list with him – Accommodation. I plan to stay in Magdalen College and a room has been reserved for me. I have yet to inform Edward of this. I don't think he'll take it well. I'm not sure if he thinks I'll commute from here, but that's just not an idea I want to entertain.

Staying in Magdalen is the most convenient option, it's also much cheaper to stay in halls, rather than renting somewhere. I know money isn't really a concern for me now that I have the inheritance, but I want to immerse myself fully in the academic lifestyle. I'm also still not yet accustomed to being able to afford almost whatever I desire. The money I have feels tainted and grubby. I didn't work for it and my parents had to die prematurely for me to receive it. It doesn't feel like it is mine. _I guess it will just take time._

There are a number of broader items on my list: the house sale, moving my belongings, a number of sights to visit in Oxford and some books and materials I need to purchase. I also want to buy a bicycle, so that I can fulfil my romantic ideas of cycling along cobbled streets to my lectures. Something with a wicker basket for my books and a big bell to scare the tourists! I grin to myself with glee.

The final and most important item on my list is ironically lurking at the bottom. Just like it lurks permanently in the back of my mind throughout this entire episode.

'Edward' is written in capital letters and the paper is indented where I have written over the letters again and again. A series of question marks, hearts and flowers are peppered around his name.

He's on my list for so many reasons. I need to talk to him about my desire to experience the whole 'Oxford thing' on my own two feet. Now is the time to strike out, become a stronger individual. I don't have any intention of cutting my ties with him, I want to remain in contact, but I think we need to cool off a little. I need to dedicate all of my attention and energy to this course and eventually finding a teaching job. Also, he has some things he needs to work through.

While a huge part of me is delighted that we have become closer, both physically and emotionally, it concerns me that we have both just taken on assumed roles. We have not discussed what is happening between us or where we see it going. I feel like Edward knows he should say something too, but we are both putting it off quite successfully. My mind knows that we need to both be in the right headspace for this work.

I sigh with frustration and snap the moleskin notebook shut. Pulling my legs up into the chair I wrap my arms around my knees. I shudder as the heels of my icy cold feet touch against my bare thighs. My insufficient silk camisole and shorts fail to keep me warm.

"That was a big sigh." Edward exclaims as he enters the room, stretching and running a hand through his unruly hair.

He rouses me from my thoughts and I take in his just woke-up appearance. Low slung pin-stripe pyjama bottoms rest on his hips and a tight white t-shirt completes his sleep ensemble.

"Oh, I'm just thinking about Oxford and the logistics of it all." I mutter guiltily at the half-truth and rest my chin on my knees.

"It'll all work out. I'll help you every step of the way. It'll be much easier than you think."

He walks over to me and strokes my hair. I rest my head against his taut stomach and close my eyes, breathing deeply I take in his familiar scent. I feel his hand stroke down to my shoulders, coming to a stop between the blades. He spreads his fingers wide and strokes his thumb back and forth. My bare skin warms under his touch.

I can't suppress the feeling that I'm leading him on. His touch feels so wonderful, though. It breathes new life into me and I crave his affection, but we have never discussed the issue of Tanya again since we have become more intimate. Not to mention that it seems foolish to jump headlong into a relationship with Edward after James is still so fresh in my mind.

I'm finding my feet again. I still can't believe my days are now mine to fill as I see fit, rather than following the instructions of some overbearing bully.

Edward and I have never discussed what we have become, or where we are heading. We seem to have fallen into a comfortable routine and neither of us is mentioning the elephant in the room so to speak.

I am talking to someone, just not Edward.

I have been seeing a counsellor for the last few months. She is helping me deal with my 'issues' and I have discussed Edward with her. She advised me to talk to him about my feelings and my plan to take a self-imposed break from 'us'.

I keep putting it off and as a result I have re-scheduled my visits to her. I know it's the first thing she'll ask.

"You certainly are deep in thought this morning, aren't you?" He muses.

My eyes snap open and I lift my head to stare up at him.

"Hmm?" I smile bashfully and feel my cheeks flush.

"I asked if you'd like some breakfast." He shakes his head and smiles.

"Umm no, I think I'll just have coffee. Shall I make it?" I begin to rise.

"No, you stay there and talk to me. I'll make it." His hand returns to my hair and his fingers slide quickly down to stroke the side of my face, stopping to hold my chin.

I flinch and my body tenses. He means it as affection, but it's so reminiscent of the controlling way James used to touch me. I breathe deeply and interlock my shaking fingers. It's further confirmation that I'm still not ready.

I chastise myself for behaving so stupidly and reassure myself that I'm safe. He's not here anymore; he's in prison.

I can tell Edward has noticed, but as usual he doesn't say anything. His eyes bore into mine and he raises an eyebrow minutely.

I look down and shake my head.

"Sorry Edward." I mutter miserably.

"What for?" I can tell from the tone of his voice that although he's hurt, he's trying to appear nonchalant.

"For being silly." I pause.

"It's not that you remind me of him, because you don't." I sit up straight and plead with my eyes for him to believe me.

"You're nothing like him, it's just sometimes a touch, or a sentence, or even an object…" I trail off and shrug my shoulders.

"I know. I understand. I still sometimes get that way about Tanya." He moves to make the coffee, as he stands with his back to me, I notice his shoulders look tense.

"It just brings it all back. Sometimes I have to pinch myself that it really is over, that this isn't a dream and it really is my life now." I stand up and walk over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"It's just going to take time I guess. I would never hurt you like he did." He continues to busy himself.

"I know you won't. I trust you implicitly." I kiss his shoulder-blade through the cloth of his t-shirt.

"You're so precious to me." He turns and cradles me in his arms, pulling my head to his chest. Tears prick the corner of my eyes and I shut them tightly.

He needs me so much too. _How is he going to cope here without me?_

X-X-X-X-X

In one hand I clutch my leather portfolio and with the other I clasp Edward's arm as we walk along the stone corridors of Magdalen College. Our heels clop along the stony surface. It's the only sound and it breaks the oppressive silence of the grand building.

I turn to Edward and smile up at him, he looks so at home here. He whispers details about the similarity between this campus and his old college, St Catherine's, in my ear, and reassures me that I am going to be extremely happy here.

Having just been to my interview with the faculty of my course and the College Warden, I am now being shown which room will be mine. Seeing it all in the flesh like this and watching as the processes gather pace, it's all becoming more and more real.

It is a couple of weeks until I start my full-time course here. Goosebumps trail down my back as the cool air emanating from the stone of the corridor circulates around me. I can imagine myself feeling really at home in these surroundings.

My lecturers all seem agreeable and the syllabus is so interesting, I cannot wait to begin my course. I even know which school I shall be teaching in for the duration of my studying. It's a small village school, on the outskirts of Oxford, in the opposite direction from Edward, though.

One of the graduates, Tyler, is giving us a tour and I am only half listening to the conversation he and Edward are having about all things varsity. My eyes comb over every detail of the building as we weave our way through the halls from the cloisters overlooking the main quadrangle, to the stone walls lined with plaques and various busts of influential scholars on plinths. There are doorways leading off to various rooms and staircases that appear to be almost hidden, until you're immediately upon them.

A few students loiter on the grass of the quadrangle and the wisteria is in full bloom as it winds its way around the clock tower. It reminds me of Edward's house - the same creeper adorns the side of his cottage.

We make our way up a narrow stone staircase that spirals as we reach the top. I let go of Edward's hand in the confined space and run my hand along the wall as we make our ascent. He looks down at me and smiles at the sheer excitement on my face. When we reach the top of the stairs we continue along a corridor before coming to a stop at a wooden door which fits into the stone archway of the wall. Tyler unlocks it with a key attached to his belt loop.

"Well, Isabella, this is to be your room while you study with us." He pushes the door open for me to step in.

"Please Tyler, call me Bella." I smile kindly and he nods.

I force myself to step into the doorway slowly, when all I really want to do is run around screaming with joy. I feel Edward's hand resting reassuringly on the small of my back as I look at my new surroundings.

A small bed takes up one corner of the room, a desk nestles underneath an arch-shaped window that mimics the shape of the door. There is a chair, an angle-poised lamp and a leather desk pad for leaning on whilst writing. Another door in the room leads off to what I assume is the en suite bathroom.

There are some bookshelves above the bed. The walls are white-washed and there is a wooden wardrobe behind the door and a small chest of drawers pushed up against the other wall. I can already envisage where my things will go and how it will all look.

"Well, I'll leave you to have a good look around."

Tyler's voice alerts me to the fact that he is still there.

"Oh, thank you very much for your help, Tyler." I turn to look at him and smile appreciatively.

"It's nothing, Bella. I hope you'll be very happy here." He nods his head and turns his attention to Edward.

"It was a very nice to meet you also, Mr Cullen. I'm privileged to be in the presence of such an inspirational member of our alumni. The University is extremely proud to be able to count you among its graduates." Tyler ducks his head bashfully.

"I wish you well with your studies, Tyler. Keep up the rowing. It's great for body and mind." Edward offers his hand.

"I will do, thank you." Tyler shakes his hand and makes his way downstairs.

I run to the window to see what the view is like, stepping around the side of the desk. I stroke the stone window frame beneath my fingers and stare out at the view. It's breath-taking. I can see straight into the botanic gardens that Edward and I visited. There is also a clear view of the river and a few people punting along it.

"Come and see the view." I beckon him over.

He comes to join me and I smile up at him. He smiles down at me and then looks out the window. I watch his face darken as he stares at the view and his jaw clenches. His entire body language changes; he becomes rigid and unapproachable.

"Very picturesque." He mutters and turns to survey the room.

His reaction confuses me, but I don't say anything. I lean against the wall and watch him as he stalks around the space.

"The rooms are much smaller than I remember." He scoffs and looks over the room in an unimpressed manner.

"Perhaps you've just grown." I offer up, in an attempt at humour.

"Is this really the best room they could offer you?" He shakes his head at me in disbelief and continues to survey the room.

Walking up to the wardrobe he opens it, knocking all of the panels with his hands, checking the sturdiness of the ancient piece of furniture.

I don't answer and he doesn't notice. He seems to be in his own scathing bubble. I can't understand why he's trying to ruin this for me.

He heads to the bed and placing both his hands on the mattress, he presses down hard and tuts in disgust at the apparent lack of quality.

"Only a single bed? Really?" He looks around like someone is playing a practical joke on him and a king-size bed is hiding in the wings somewhere.

I watch as he heads to the bathroom, opening the door roughly he turns on the pull-cord light and just scoffs at the contents of the room, closing the door harshly behind him.

Tears prick at the corner of my eyes. I have already fallen in love with this room and can imagine myself coming back here from lectures. I cannot wait to make it my own. _Why is he being so cruel?_

"It's no good, Bella. I won't allow you to stay here. You should see the bathroom! It's laughable." He crosses his arms and looks at me, waiting for me to agree.

"I like this room. What do you mean, 'I won't allow you to stay here'?" My voice is angry as I place my hands on my hips and mimic his tone while I repeat his words back to him. His comments have hurt me.

"Please be reasonable, you deserve better than this. It's second-rate." He walks over to me and taking my hands he leads me to the bed to sit down.

"I have the perfect solution." He smiles earnestly at me. I sniff back tears of anger and wait for him to elaborate. My back is stiff as I sit bolt upright, unable to stop myself from giving off defensive signals.

"Go on," I say in a no-nonsense monotone.

"I already own a flat in Oxford. We can move in there together. Then at weekends we can go back to the house together. It'll be perfect! We can carry on just as we have been." He smiles triumphantly, clearly very proud of himself.

_Perfect? _

I stare open-mouthed. He wants me to stay separately from all of the other students on the course and to go home at weekends. I'll be completely isolated from everyone else. I'll be just as lonely as I was with James, relying solely on one other person.

Perfect, really isn't the word I'd use to describe that scenario.

"No Edward, I can't." My voice is a whisper and I struggle to look at him.

"What do you mean 'no'?" A look of incredulity is written across his face.

"Honestly? You want me to stay separately from everyone else on my course and to go home at weekends? I'd be isolating myself before I'd even begun." I plead with him to understand.

"It wouldn't be like that, but if that's the way you feel, we can stay in Oxford at the weekends too. I'll go back in the week to the house. It'll work out best for both of us. I have really missed it here too. I can take you to all the places I used to go." He smiles, as though it's settled.

"No, please, you're not listening to me." I slip my hands from his and stand up.

"I need to do this for me." I clutch my hands to my chest as I speak.

"I need to know I can stand on my own two feet for a change. I want to stay here, to decorate it to my tastes to stare out of my little window and to feel a part of the college. Just like you did. Can't you understand that?" My voice softens as I tail off.

He pauses and waits a while before he speaks.

"OK, well let's compromise. You can still take this room, but we'll stay in the flat. Then you can come and go as you please. Come here to study and have a bit of space when you need it." He smiles as though that is an agreeable situation.

"Compromise? I'm the one going away to study not you. I don't understand what is going on." I shake my head as I feel myself becoming angry.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that we haven't discussed anything properly. You are just trying to make my decisions for me. We haven't even talked about what you and I are." I motion between us, indicating our relationship.

"What we are? I suppose I just assumed after we became more intimate with each other… I mean, I didn't think we needed a label. I just thought…" he trails off.

"That's exactly the problem! You still aren't talking to me about things. We haven't discussed Tanya, or what has happened between us.

You're still so closed off.

I adore that we made love and I want to be like that with you again, but I think we need time. I don't think I'm ready to move in with you here in Oxford as well. I think some time apart would be good for both of us." I clasp my hands together.

"Bella, what are you saying exactly?"

"I don't know what I'm saying." I look at the ground.

"I'm struggling to understand why you are trying to control this. I thought you would stay at the house and I would stay here. That you would visit me and of course stay over, but not that we would move here together." My voice sounds whiney.

"I would never stay here." He talks quietly, his voice doesn't sound snobbish anymore.

"Why what's wrong with it?" I ask, hurt evident in my voice.

"Look out of that window and I mean properly this time." His tone isn't harsh, it's sad.

I walk back to the window and look out, my eyes drift over to the Botanic Gardens and this time they come to settle on the bench that Edward got for Tanya. I instantly feel awful. This is just further proof that Edward really needs to deal with what has happened in his past.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't realise. I'm sure I could change rooms." I walk round the bed to sit next to him and slip an arm around his shoulders.

"It's not just that. I'd be lying if I said it was. It's all of it, being back in this environment again." He sighs.

"You're right, we haven't discussed things properly. I need to talk to someone about how I'm feeling. I can't keep carrying this around with me. You're getting the proper help you need and I really should be doing the same." He tiredly rubs his face with his hands.

I stroke his hair gently and begin to speak.

"I think we should use this as opportunity to slow things down a bit between us." I speak softly.

His head snaps up to meet mine.

"The whole thing with James really wasn't that long ago and I haven't truly spent any time alone. Instead I've struck up a partnership with you and I'm relying on you too much; it's not fair.

You have things you need to work through too. I just think now would be a good time for me work through some things as well. Like our intimacy, I'm struggling with how fast things have been moving between us . You could use the time to get some counselling and maybe finish that final book while I concentrate on my studying.

I don't want to make the same mistakes a second time I don't want to get swept up in another situation where I don't speak up until it's too late.

I want US to work, Edward. I think we just need some time to heal separately, before we come back together." I choke on the last words.

A heavy silence hangs between us as I wait for him to speak.

"You're right, of course you are." He smiles sadly and kisses my forehead. His reaction surprises me.

"I'm being entirely selfish. I just can't face the thought of being in that house without you. I've been on my own for so long and I thought that was what I wanted, but you've just lit up my life. I love spending time with you and I didn't want to go back to an empty house, not now that I'd had a taste of how good it could be. I can't bear the thought of losing you. " He holds me tightly.

"That's exactly why we need to do this. I'm not going anywhere and I won't shut myself off from you like Tanya did. But I need to be sure that I can do something on my own two feet for once." I press myself tightly into him.

"It's going to be so hard. Can we still be in contact with each other?" His question surprises me and I look up at him.

"Of course I still need you in my life. I couldn't face the thought of not being in contact." I smile warmly at him despite the tears in my eyes.

"We just need to be friends for a little while longer. Making love to you wasn't a mistake I just think it has blurred the lines for us a bit."

"I will get help and when you graduate we'll revisit a future for 'US' again. I don't want to lose you. Promise?" He puts out his hand.

"You won't lose me, I promise." I say, shaking his hand and kissing him softly on the cheek.

X-X-X-X-X

I close the front door behind me and lock it for the last time in a while. Edward is waiting in the car, the engine is running and all of the items I need for college fill up the boot and back seats.

I look over at the Sold sign on my old house, a Mr J Jenks has bought the property. I hope it's someone that Edward can get on with. I worry about him being out here. I believe his brother Emmett is going to take a sabbatical and come out here for a bit to help him with some of the orchard harvest, if there is any.

He has plenty to keep him busy and I'll be checking in on him regularly.

I straighten my cardigan and walk to the car and climb in.

"Ready?" Edward looks at me.

"Ready." I nod assertively and clip my seatbelt into the buckle.

We drive to Oxford in a heavy, emotionally charged silence. We clasp each other's hand all the way, except when he needs to change gear. I stare out of the window not knowing what to say to him. The talk we had when we were last here has had a real impact on the direction our relationship is taking. The camaraderie element is still there and we are terribly supportive of each other, but I notice that Edward's affections have become more reserved.

He loves cuddling and the peck on the cheek or kiss to the top of the head still reassure me that I'm very precious to him, but they don't hold the same sensual nature of before. We haven't made love again, but I don't feel as though that is a bad thing. It is what we both agreed after all.

We pull up outside of the college and I slide my hand from Edward's. Getting out of the car I show my paperwork to the waiting Porter at the lodge. After he confirms that everything is in order I get back in the car and he opens the gate so that we can drive into the grounds.

"Everything okay?" Edward looks at me tentatively.

"Yes, he said we can drive in. Thank you for bringing me here. I know it must be hard for you to come back after last time." I clasp his hand.

"It's really not as hard as I thought it would be." He concentrates on driving into the college grounds and following the gravel drive, his eyes stare straight-ahead.

I don't know whether to believe him. I think his coming back here is a big step, but I don't say any more on the subject.

X-X-X-X-X

I put the last box from the car on the floor by the bed and run carefully down the stone stairs to a waiting Edward.

I stop at the bottom as I watch him leaning against the car, his arms cross over his chest and his Ray-bans protect his eyes from the late afternoon sun, which is dancing on the auburn highlights of his hair. _He looks so youthful and carefree._

He sees me and walks from the car towards me as I nestle in the cool shadows of the stone cloisters.

"Well Miss Swan, looks like this is where we part." He removes his sunglasses and his eyes are moist.

I close the gap between us and wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his chest. _I will not allow myself to cry. I'll save that for when he's gone. _

I step back to look up at him and I reach into the pocket of my jeans to retrieve the set of keys he gave me for his house.

"Here, I believe these are yours." I offer the keys to him. He takes them reluctantly.

"Look after yourself, make sure you eat properly. I won't be there to cook for you." I smile at him bravely and rub my hands up and down his arms.

"May I remind you that I'm a very capable cook and it is you that will be sorely missing my culinary delights." He jokes, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He places a kiss on my hand and then lets it go.

"I have something here for you." He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a black velvet pouch, tied with a ribbon.

"Something for me? What is it? You really didn't have to." He places the bag in my hand while I prattle on.

I delicately pull the ribbon open and peer inside the bag. I clutch my throat with my hand and when I see the contents my breath catches. He truly is the most wonderful man in the world. There in my hand is the repaired pearl necklace of my mother's that James destroyed.

"Oh, Edward." My eyes fill with tears and it's all I can manage to say.

"I thought you could wear it here and it would be like she's with you in everything you do." He shrugs shyly.

"You're so wonderful." I gush and put the necklace on, fumbling with the new clasp.

"How do they look?" I enquire.

"Like they're back where they belong." He smiles and tucks my hair behind my ear.

"Thank you so much." I step forward and kiss him on the corner of his mouth. He grabs me in his arms tightly and lifts me off the ground before setting me back down and kissing the top of my head.

"We'll continue this again at graduation, Miss Swan." I nod unable to speak.

He turns and walks to his car. He doesn't look back at me once. It is then I let the tears I held back fall.

As I watch him drive away our eyes connect in the rear-view mirror.

I see him wipe a hand roughly across his eyes too, before replacing his sunglasses.

I watch his car disappear from sight before making my way back up the stairs to my room.

I shut the door behind me, walk past all of my boxes and head straight to the window. Tears fall down my cheeks as I silently stare out the window at Tanya's bench. I watch as a couple sit there, holding hands and kissing. It gives me hope.

I dry my eyes and taking a deep breath I move away from the window to begin to unpack my things. I hope I've made the right decision.

**A/n:**Hmm sad times, leave me a review to let me know what you think. Flubbles x


	33. Chapter 32

**A/n: **Well here it is, the penultimate chapter of A Form of Escapism. I have to confess this is one of my favourite chapters. Partly because you get a little look into Edward's head so enjoy. Thank you all for the reviews, it's really amazed me how much interest there still is in this little tale. Once again thanks to xoEMC for being wonderful! Enjoy x

Chapter 32

It's getting late. I've unpacked all of my belongings. My clothes take up residence in the wardrobe and toiletries clutter the compact bathroom. A framed photo of Edward taken in the orchard sits atop my desk next to my laptop – a Mac book, selected by Edward of course.

I open up the computer and switch it on as I settle myself in front of the desk. It's funny how something that now feels so natural was alien a few months ago. I remember setting up my email with Edward. I hadn't used a computer since the last time I was at University. A sad smile graces my lips as I touch the necklace he gave me and look across at my single bed. _It will be lonely sleeping there without any arms wrapped around me at night. _

I really do hope Edward will be okay.

I start up my email client and write a quick note to him.

**From: **bella_swan  
**To:** eam_cullen  
**Subject:** Thank you for everything

Edward,

Your love and support over the past months have helped me get here, sitting in my temporary home writing this email.

Please don't neglect yourself during my time away. Tell me everything you experience and I will do the same.

Thank you once again for the necklace. It means the world to me, as do you.

All my love,  
B x

I hit send and step away to look out of the window; the view at night is just as spectacular. I watch the moonlight dance over the river as the punts bob on the surface. I don't expect a reply from Edward. It's late and he's bound to be asleep by now.

As I get myself ready for bed I hear a ding from my laptop and I dash to check it. I have mail! A smile spreads across my face when I see it's from Edward.

**From:** eam_cullen  
**To: **bella_swan  
**Subject:** I should be thanking you

Miss Swan,

It's quiet here without you and the house feels too big for one.

I began to write again tonight, amazingly the words flowed. I have you to thank for that.

Fixing something that you hold so dear to you was my pleasure. Hopefully I can work the same magic on myself.

I miss you and I hope that time flies so you're back in my arms.

Study hard.

With love,

E x

I wrap my arms around myself and squeeze tightly. He's really going to support me in this. I close my eyes and say a small prayer as I raise my head skyward. I scramble into bed and wearily turn out the light. Sleep comes easy this evening.

X-X-X-X-X

Michaelmas Term has flown by and I cannot believe I am half-way through already. I spend my time equally between studying at Magdalen, and teaching in a darling little primary school in rural Oxford. I'm fitting in so well and everyone has been so welcoming. I've made some wonderful friends on my course.

Angela is from Bath; she's an adorable redhead just graduated from Cambridge. As she's a few years younger than me, she's full of youthful energy and exuberance. It's refreshing to be around someone so positive.

Leah is nearer my age, having worked for a marketing firm in London for a few years before returning to studying. She's going to be such an amazing teacher - patient and wise beyond her years.

They make me feel like I really belong here and they've become the sisters I never had. We have regular study sessions in the Bodleian, which often progress into a cocktail, or two and a gossip at the Duke of Cambridge Happy Hour. Angela has a boyfriend back home and they seem very committed. Leah on the other hand is definitely looking for love; she's constantly watching out for her very own Mr Right.

They nag me about men relentlessly and when they saw the photograph of Edward on my desk I didn't hear the end of it for days. Of course they've read E.A.M Cullen; there aren't many women that haven't.

I try to tell them that there's nothing serious between us. In the back of my mind I know it's not true and I'm saving myself for Edward. This break from him is a bitter, but necessary pill to swallow. As much as I miss him, I cannot deny I am relishing the opportunity to be entirely selfish.

I've only half told the girls about James. I've mentioned that I was in an abusive relationship, got married too young and I'm going through the process of getting a divorce, but I avoid too much detail. It's an intense subject and that's what my counsellor is for. I know Edward has started seeing a counsellor too and I think he's really beginning to make some headway.

Thinking of Edward, I open up my latest email from him and read it again before composing a reply.

**From:** eam_cullen  
**To: **bella_swan  
**Subject:** cider with...Emmett

Salutations Miss Swan,

I am missing you as ever and hope that you are well.

Hurricane Emmett has blown into town. The quiet house of the last few months that I have been coming to terms with is no more.

As I hide in my study to write this, he's watching rugby loudly on the television and re-enacting some of the passes. I know this, because I can hear my antique furniture protesting as he connects with it.

He doesn't travel light either; I think you'd struggle to recognise this place. He even bought his own breakfast cereal with him! He's taking a break from veterinary medicine and decided to spend some time with me.

I intend to use his brute strength in the orchard. I hope that will tire him out sufficiently.

A few of the older trees that you so artfully pruned have actually come to fruit this year. I plan to harvest them and produce a small test batch of cider. I'll let you know if it's drinkable, or flammable in the very least.

Emmett has become something of a celebrity in The Carlisle Arms. He thinks it's an omen that the pub shares its name with our father. I did point out to him that it's also the name of a city in the North of England – I sometimes wonder if we are really related.

A particular barmaid named Rose is quite taken with him. I'll keep you abreast of any further developments.

How is your course going? And the school placement? You seem to be making lots of friends, which is so pleasing to hear about.

It's true what they say, absence does make the heart grow fonder, and I'm missing you enormously. Perhaps my heartache is what is making the writing easier.

I can't remember the last time I wrote this prolifically. I'm trying to just go with the flow. Which is very much not me. The counsellor is obviously helping and I feel like I'm making headway. I actually am beginning to believe that I'm not to blame for Tanya's early departure from this world.

It's slow progress, but progress nonetheless.

Thank you for the food parcel. I'm so pleased you've found a cookery club to join. Continue to send the fruits of your labour. Emmett ate most of the macaroons, but I managed to appropriate a few before he devoured them all. They were in a word...delicious!

I know it's still a long way off and nothing is yet finalised, but my Mother wanted to know if you'd like to spend Christmas with us. I'd love it if you would, for me it would be the perfect Christmas present.

All my love.

E x

Each email I receive from him touches every inch of me and makes me feel so cherished. I sometimes feel guilty for insisting on this separation, as he sounds quite melancholy at times. The time has flown by and his communication has been a constant for me while I find my way at University.

I flex my fingers and begin to type a reply. I hear a knock at my door and as I turn round Angela sticks her head through the doorway.

"Hey Bella, you coming to the talk at the Student Union? We're going to the student bar for one beforehand." She grins at me energetically.

"I'll be right down Angela, I just need to send this email first." I feel myself blush as I answer her.

"Let me guess. Edward?" She smirks knowingly and shakes her head.

"Might be." I blush further and bite my lip.

"OK, see you shortly. Don't be long." She waggles a finger and skips from the room, not waiting for an answer.

I return to my email and become absorbed in my reply to Edward, wishing I could send an email that was the equivalent of a hug and a reassurance and that we'll be alright.

X-X-X-X-X

My room is painfully cold. These old stone colleges really don't cope well with the winter weather. Oxford is covered in a blanket of snow, I hope Edward manages to get through, the roads look treacherous. I pull my coat tighter and check my suitcase once more to be sure I have everything I need including all of the Christmas presents.

There's port and cheese from the Covered Market for Esme and Carlisle; I bought Emmett a hoodie with the Magdalen College crest; and I got Alice a voucher for a Health Spa that she can use in Oxford or London.

Edward's presents are next to my luggage. I don't want to wait until we are at his parents to give them to him.

I look out the window impatiently, trying to see if Edward is there. It's too cold to wait outside, but I'm not sure if he will want to come up to my room.

My mobile phone vibrates on the desk and I see it's Edward calling.

"Hello." I breathe into the phone, eager to hear his voice.

"Bella, hi. I'm just going to park the car and then I'll come up. Is that OK?" He sounds hurried.

"Are you sure?" His willingness to come to my room surprises me.

"Yes I'm sure." I can hear the wry smile in his voice.

"Okay, see you shortly."

He hangs up the phone without another word and I perch impatiently on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to appear.

As his frame fills the doorway, I gasp at how handsome he looks. It's not that I had forgotten, but the intensity of it just hits me.

He stands on the entrance to the room looking sheepish. He has a pair of dark jeans and a pale blue shirt on, with chunky leather boots and a big woollen coat to keep out the snow. I notice he has a bag in one hand and bouquet of flowers in the other.

He looks at me expectantly and I smile back at him bashfully, not knowing what to do. Without putting down any of the items he opens his arms wider and raises both eyebrows as if to say 'well aren't you going to give me a hug'.

I rise from the bed and forgetting all other concerns apart from love and longing, I dash into his arms and crush myself against his chest, slipping my arms under his coat and wrapping them around his strong back.

His arms come to wrap around me as best they can and he kisses the top of my head.

"God I've missed you, Bella."

"I missed you so much too, Edward." I sniff loudly, trying not to let my emotions get the better of me.

I step out of his arms and marvel at how good he looks, clean shaven with no hint of tiredness near his eyes and he smells delicious. He smiles as my eyes look over him.

"You look wonderful, so full of life. Here these are for you." He offers the bag and the bouquet of poinsettias, holly, ivy and white roses to me. I blush at his compliments.

"Oh Edward, thank you. I have your presents here too; I wanted to give them to you before we set off." I place the flowers on my desk and the bag on the bed so that I can reach for Edward's presents.

"Here you go, I really hope you like them." I hand over the carefully wrapped items to him and taking his hand I urge him to sit on the bed.

"I'm sorry to ask, but are you sure you're okay being here?" I tilt my head to one side and squeeze his hand gently.

He places the presents on the bed and with his other hand he reaches up to touch the side of my face and strokes my cheekbone with his thumb.

"I've realised that I'll be fine anywhere as long as you're there." His eyes become dewy and he clears his throat. His words fill me with so much emotion and I feel my cheeks getting hotter.

I grasp his hand with mine and kiss the palm.

"I'll always be there for you, Edward." I reach across and place the palm of my hand flat on his chest, right on top of his heart and I feel it beating through the thin fabric of his shirt.

"Me too, Bella. Don't ever forget that please." He sounds so serious.

"I won't. Now open your presents." I say to try and lighten the mood.

"No, you go first please." He looks at the package in front of me and as his face brightens, I can't bear to argue with him.

I look in the bag and there are four presents wrapped in identical paper that matches the bag. It is white paper with silver stars all over it, complete with a small silver bow on each package.

"You really shouldn't have." I smile at him, secretly glad that he did; he has such wonderful taste.

"You're easy to buy for. Now don't take as long as usual to open them." I laugh at the memory of me opening presents in his house last time.

The first present I grab is soft and as light as a feather. I tear the paper open to reveal a V-neck cashmere sweater in duck egg blue. It's exquisite and so soft; I raise it to my cheek and rub my face against it.

"It's beautiful, thank you." I stand and slipping off the jacket I'm wearing, I put the jumper on over the top of my white cotton blouse.

"How do I look?" I twirl before him.

"Breathtaking." His lips part and his tongue darts out to lick them.

I reach for the other items in the gift bag; there is a large heavy package. I struggle to lift it out with one hand. Instead I reach in with both hands and place it on my lap. Peeling back the layers I can see that it is a chestnut leather satchel with two big buckles and a front compartment.

"I love it. I'll look so chic going to lectures and it's the perfect size to take when I'm teaching. You think of everything."

He ducks his head, a lock of hair falling over his forehead which he pushes back. He waits patiently as I open the other items.

When I come to the jewellery box, I look up at him. He nods and urges me to continue.

Lifting open the box, I see a pair of pearl earrings that perfectly match my mother's necklace, right down to the size and the colour of the pearls.

I gasp and my hand flies to my throat as I clutch my familiar talisman. Second to him repairing the necklace, this is the most wonderful gift.

With trembling hands I put on the earrings. I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

"They're perfect." I sniff and pounce on Edward, smothering his face in thank you kisses and winding my arms around his neck.

He pulls me into his lap and sighs as he wraps his arms around me and squeezes tightly.

"You like them?"

"I adore them."

"There's something else in there as well." He motions at the bag with a nod of his head.

"What is it?" I ask, not eager to leave my current position.

"It's a bottle of cider from the orchard." He swells with pride and grins at me.

"Can I try it?" My interest piqued.

"Not yet, it tastes like paint stripper at the moment. Wait a few months and it'll be like nectar." He grins.

"How do you know that? Do you have more than one batch?"

"Nope, I'm just being optimistic."

"Well, thank you for all of my presents. I love them and I love that you gave them to me now. They're so personal. I wouldn't have wanted to open them with anyone but you present." I kiss him firmly on the lips.

"You're most welcome." He grins.

"Now it's time for yours." I climb off his lap and reach for his big box of presents.

"I know it looks daunting." I say as I stand before him with my arms outstretched.

"But you'll be pleased to know the bulk of it is food that should see you well into the new year." He smiles as I say this.

Taking the package from me graciously, he leans forward and kisses me softly.

"Thank you, I already know I'll love it."

His eyes widen as he opens the first package to find an array of Christmas treats: Stollen, mince pies, spiced German cookies and a couple of mini Christmas puddings. We had a festive theme in the final few weeks of my cookery course. So I kept everything for him, knowing that he'd share them with Emmett.

He sniffs the package appreciatively and smiles up at me, looking like an excited child in a sweet shop.

"You really know the way to a man's heart, Miss Swan."

"You're the only man I care about, Edward." I blush and reach out a hand and run my fingers through his hair.

"There's one more present." I reach for a small bag and hand it to Edward before taking up my seat on the bed again.

"More?" He raises his eyebrows as he takes the bag from me.

I watch intently as he eases the gold pocket watch out of its protective cloth. I found it while I was out exploring one day. It was in one of the many antique shops hidden away off the beaten track.

I had the hunter case engraved with a C.S. Lewis quotation. _"__The future is something which everyone reaches at the rate of 60 minutes an hour, whatever he does, whoever he is."_ I remember he loved his work as a child.

I wait for him to speak, but he is transfixed by the watch.

"Edward? Do you like it?" My voice is a whisper.

"I love it. I've never had such a wonderful gift in all my years." He croaks at me. I marvel at his gravelly voice and the moisture in his eyes. _He really does love it._

"The quote..?" He asks and trails off.

"It's C.S. Lewis." A fleeting look of surprise dances across his face.

"I thought it was a very apt quote for our time apart. Also I know you like C.S. Lewis. It was proof for me that I can think of it without being reminded of James." I grin at him.

He slips the pocket watch into the internal pocket on his wool coat and rises from the bed to stand in front of me.

His eyes rake up and down my body and I smile up at him. I lean back on my hands and look at him appreciatively.

"What?" I ask with a grin on my face.

"You look completely different and exactly as I remembered all at once. It's so good to see you." He reaches out a hand to me. I take it and he pulls me off the bed and into his arms.

"Are you happy here?" He cups my chin with his hand, while his other arm grips my waist comfortably.

"So happy." I struggle to contain my elation.

"I'm so glad to hear that." He kisses me on the lips.

"You taste so sweet." His eyes bore into mine.

I close my eyes and kiss him even more deeply. He lifts me off the ground and I wind my arms around his neck. I moan as his lips trace down my neck to kiss just below the earrings and then along my collarbone. I tip my head back and hold on to the lapels of his coat, my hair tumbling down to my waist.

I feel his hands in my hair, grabbing it gently and kissing my neck more intently. I can feel myself becoming aroused and in this moment I want him, despite what I said in the past about not rushing.

Edward pulls away from me abruptly and stands me up fully; clearing his throat he puts some space between us.

"We really should stop." He straightens the lapels of his coat and looks at me.

I readjust my clothes and take a deep breath, looking at him with wide eyes asking for an explanation.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that. You just look so…tempting." He shrugs.

"I'm to blame too. Abstaining was my idea." I look down at my feet.

"It's not just that; it's this counsellor I've been seeing. He suggested that when I see you, I try to keep it strictly friends until I am certain that I've dealt with my Tanya skeletons. He said it wouldn't be fair on either of us." He looks relieved for having provided an explanation.

"He's probably right, besides shouldn't we be on our way to your parents by now?" I ask.

"Hmm I'm not sure, let me check the time." He exaggeratedly checks the time on the watch I bought him, making me laugh at his actions.

"I'll take that as a yes. Come on."

I gather up Edward's other present as he takes my luggage and with one look around the room, a flick of a light-switch and a lock of the door we head down to the waiting car and to Edward's family for Christmas and New Year.

X-X-X-X-X

Today the decree absolute arrived from James' Solicitor. I am now officially divorced. I still cannot believe he didn't make any demands on my money. Having him out of my life completely, makes me feel physically lighter. I can finally put that chapter of my life behind me now. I haven't shared the good news with Edward yet.

I suppose I really am no longer Mrs Smith, but really Miss Swan now. The children in my class have been calling me that for a long while, but not as long as Edward.

These past six months have been filled with so many positive changes. I have grown and flourished in my time here. I feel younger now than all the years I was married. The only thing I really wish is that my mother was still here; I touch her necklace for comfort.

Charlie was a hugely controlling influence and not one I miss. Perhaps thinking this makes me a bad person, but he was never a father to me, not the way Carlisle is to Edward. Seeing them together at Christmas makes me grieve for a relationship I never had with Charlie.

My counsellor has reduced our sessions to one a month and she's really impressed with my progress. The mental scars took a lot longer to heal than the physical scars. I can actually look in the mirror now without feeling disappointed with myself.

A knock at the door breaks through my musings. It's Tyler and he's carrying a package.

"Hey Bella, this was left at the Porter's Lodge for you. A courier dropped it off." Tyler offers the parcel to me and I take it, marvelling at the weight of it.

"It sure is heavy, wonder what's in there." He muses.

I'm suddenly transported back in time and reminded of nosey old Joan at the post office.

"Just text books, I imagine. I ordered some more." I lie and look up at Tyler, who seems to show no signs of leaving.

"Anything else I can help you with, Tyler?" I ask curtly, asserting the new Bella.

"Oh no, I'll leave you to it." He holds up his hands, sensing my tone and makes his way out the door. I smile to myself and shake my head.

I look at the franking on the parcel, it's come from East London. My fingers gently tear the paper away and I immediately recognise it as a proof copy of Edward's finished manuscript. There is a note scribbled in his hand on heavy calligraphy paper.

_Miss Swan,  
Cast your critical eye over this  
and give me your honest opinion.  
I can take it!  
Love Ex_

I peel back the first page and stare at the double-spaced text. Before I read any of it I grab the phone and dial his number, knowing it by heart.

It rings for what seems like an eternity and just as I'm about to resign myself to the fact that he's not home, he picks up the phone.

"Hello."

"Hi."

"Miss Swan, it's so good to hear from you. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?" His tone is jovial.

"Always so formal, Mr Cullen." I giggle into the phone and continue to speak.

"I got the manuscript! It just arrived. I can't believe you finished it so quickly." My voice is incredulous.

"Yes, it was a bit of a shock to me too. I guess when I put my mind to it, I can still do it." He chuckles to himself.

"Have you read any of it yet?" His voice quietens and I can hear the apprehension.

"Not yet, but I know I'll love it. I just wanted to congratulate you." My face spreads into a grin.

"Well, read it first and then let me know what you think. Jane loved it, but then she's motivated purely by money, so she'd say anything that gets me one step closer to publishing."

"I'm sure you're being unfairly hard on yourself." I scold him gently.

"Probably. I did set myself the target of finishing it this year while you were studying, so I'm pretty relieved to be one step closer to publishing.

"So how are you? Coping in this cold weather? I have Emmett chopping logs for the fire." He chuckles devilishly.

"I'm sure he loves that! I'm good. it is very cold in these rooms. The heating is on full and I feel like I've drunk my bodyweight in tea. I'm wearing the jumper you gave me. Every time I put it on, I feel like it's you giving me a hug." I blush at the admission.

"I do remember St Catherine's having quite cold rooms and you're in a much older building. I wish I was there, but I think I'd be tempted to do more than just hug you." He answers in a cheeky mood. I blush at his words.

"Any news on Emmett and Rose? He wouldn't stop talking about her at Christmas. I feel like I've met her!" I change the subject to safer territory.

"I know. Every other word was 'Rose'. Well, he's finally worked up the courage to ask her on a date. I think he's taking her into Oxford. I'll find out when so you can stay indoors where it's safe." I laugh aloud at his quip.

"Oh, that's a sound I miss." His voice is thick with emotion.

"I miss you so much, Edward. I have a piece of my own good news though. "

"You have me intrigued."

"My decree absolute came through." I know that sharing this new with him is my real reason for calling.

"How wonderful. So you really are Miss Swan?"

"Yes, I suppose I am."

"How do you feel about it?"

I think over his question before answering.

"My overriding feeling is relief. On the other hand, being a married woman was such a huge part of my life though not necessarily for the right reasons that I almost feel as if a part of me is missing.

"The quiet, damaged Bella is long gone, never to return. I just cannot believe how I lived like that for as long as I did."

There's a pause, before Edward breaks the silence.

"I wish I could be there, to comfort you. Will you be okay?"

I nod and then realise he can't see me.

"Yes, I'll be fine. It's a positive thing, I just need to let it sink in. On the plus side I have something to read that I think will be quite distracting." I smile as my eyes drift back to the book. I stroke the top sheet of paper with my hand.

"Hopefully it will be a good form of escapism for you. I'm desperate for you to like it."

"I know I will. You have no fears there."

I hear a commotion in the background and a loud bang, followed by a yell and I realise Emmett has announced his arrival.

"Is that Emmett?" I enquire.

"Yes, I'd better go. Every single time he chops wood for the fire, he tries to carry too much and drops it all over the kitchen floor. He'll be the death of me." I chuckle at Edward's anguish.

"Ok, I'll let you go, remember to be nice. He's family!"

"Yeah, yeah family." He sounds exasperated.

"Bye, Edward. Love you." The words slip out of my mouth.

"Love you too, Miss Swan." I can hear the smile in his voice as he hangs up.

I hang up the phone and stretch out on the bed with a huge grin on my face. I then flop onto my stomach and begin to read the final instalment of the Magdalen Saga. As I start the first paragraph I reflect on how nice it is not to have to read covertly, or to hide the document away from my ex-husband's all seeing eyes.

X-X-X-X-X

Having waited the obligatory length of time, the cider is ready to sample as I come to the end of Trinity Term and the end of my time at Oxford.

I pour some into the 'When in Doubt, Brew Up' mug that Edward bought me and take a tentative sip. It's surprisingly good.

I drink the cider as I pace around the bare room. My belongings have been returned to their suitcases, or packed into cardboard boxes. A few items are atop of my desk, including an ornate invitation to Edward's book launch. It is being held at a rooftop garden in Kensington and I've been invited as a special guest. I'm so excited to attend it with him.

His final book is remarkable. It is such a privilege to have read it before anyone else. I was in a very different place when he began that novel to where I find myself now.

My graduation is this afternoon. I cannot quite believe that my return to academia is over so quickly. A year at Magdalen and I am now a fully qualified teacher.

The school where I had my placement has decided to take me on full-time. I met my form class a couple of weeks ago. There are some high spirited children, as well as some timid little ones. I cannot wait to get to know each and every one of them and prepare them for the rest of their school life.

I look out the window at Tanya's bench as I drain the last of the cider from my cup. I check my watch and realise he'll be here soon. I scan my eyes around the room to be sure that I have everything. I place the last few items in a box and sit on my bed waiting for him.

After my graduation ceremony we are going to head back to Edward's. My thoughts turn to my former house. I am curious to see what the new owner has done with it. Edward says they have carried out some major structural work and that I will struggle to recognise the place.

I don't know anything about Mr Jenks, except that he was a cash buyer and because of this, I let the place go to the first offer. I just wanted to be rid of that albatross.

Half of the money I received was donated to a charity that helps with victims of domestic violence and the remaining amount, I have put into savings along with the money from my parents. I'm lucky enough to know that I will be able to live quite comfortably in my new life. First, I'll need to buy a car for my new job. Edward has volunteered to help with the negotiations. _So much to do! _

Oh, I've missed that man. I really know myself now and I know that he is the one for me and that I'm not just running to him blindly because I don't know any better and because I want a man to protect me. I just have to find out if he is ready to move forward too.

I don't have to wait long for Edward to arrive. His familiar mop of hair pokes round my door and his face breaks into a smile.

I jump to my feet and suddenly feel nervous around him, butterflies gather in my stomach. I blush but meet his gaze and match his smile with one of my own.

He closes the gap between us swiftly and gathers me up into a hug, lifting me off the ground. I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze tightly.

"Congratulations! You did it, Miss Swan." He murmurs into my hair.

"I suppose I did." I blush and hug him back tightly.

X-X-X-X-X

I re-adjust my gown and mortarboard as I wait nervously on the steps of the Sheldonian Theatre. I hear Edward take my photograph for the hundredth time and I scowl at him.

"Edward, surely you've captured my tense expression from every possible angle by now." I snap at him.

"But you look adorable when you frown and you really don't have anything to worry about." Un-phased he snaps a few pictures of the crowd.

I feel so uncomfortable in my formal clothing. I'm wearing a black pencil skirt, white blouse, velvet ribbon neck tie, high heels and a black Russell cord graduate gown to signify my previous degree from Reading. During the ceremony I have to change into another gown with a hood which relates to my post graduate course. I find the whole process thoroughly confusing, especially considering how much of it is in Latin. Edward has assured me it's very simple.

The main reason for my anxiety is that the ceremony takes place in the Sheldonian Theatre with hundreds of people watching.

While I have been mulling over the ceremony, Edward has found an unsuspecting member of the public and asks them to take our picture. He wraps his arms round me and we look deep into each other's eyes as our picture is taken. I can't remember a time I ever felt this complete.

He thanks the man that took our picture and looks at the back of the camera to check the quality.

"You can relax, that one's a keeper. No more pictures for now I promise." He grins impishly.

Before I can respond a bell tolls, indicating that we should begin entering the theatre. This is where Edward and I must part as I sit in the lower portion of the hall and he in the gallery. He gives me a kiss on the cheek and whispers in my ear that I'll be fine. I nod, and in a daze I join the line of people.

As I enter the ancient building I take off my mortarboard and make my way to my seat. A choir is singing and there are three large empty chairs that look very regal at the front of the hall.

As we all take our seats the music switches and the Chancellor and Vice-Chancellors enter the room to take their seats. _Let the graduation commence!_

X-X-X-X-X

I clutch my certificate in one hand and with the other I cling on to Edward as I smile broadly for the official photographer. Decked out in my new gown complete with hood to signify my new degree status, we mill around the courtyard of The Bodleian as I wave and smile at people I recognise from around the campus.

Suddenly I'm almost knocked over by a pair of arms that wrap themselves around my neck. I laugh out loud as I realise it's Angela. We both hug each other and squeal on the spot, jumping up and down in a completely unladylike way.

"Angela! Congratulations." We pull apart and grin at each other.

"You too, Bella Can you believe it? We're teachers now. Isn't it amazing?" I nod at her excitedly and then look to Edward to introduce them.

"Angela, this is Edward. Edward, this is Angela."

"A pleasure to meet you Angela. Bella has told me a lot about you." He extends his hand coolly and I watch her beam up at him.

"Oh Bella, of course I know this is Edward, from the photograph in your room. It's lovely to meet you too." She looks at me deviously. I blush ferociously. He had no idea about the photo as I hid it whenever he visited.

"Photograph?" Edward enquires teasingly.

"Umm I don't know what Angela's talking about. So is Leah here?" I ask trying to change the subject.

I catch Angela wink at Edward, which makes him laugh and neither of them answer me.

"Well, here you all are." Leah saunters over to us with the most perfect timing ever and the three of hug and resume our squealing.

I introduce Leah to Edward and we all chatter away happily.

"So Bella, we're going to go to The Bear for a drink for old time's sake. Would you like to come along?" Leah looks at me hopefully.

"Yeah sure, is that ok with you, Edward?" I look up at him.

"Sure, but can we meet you there? I have somewhere I need to take Bella first." He smiles down at me.

"Ok, but don't be long!" Angela answers as she drags Leah away in the direction of the pub and her family.

"We won't!" I answer without confidence, as I have no idea what Edward has in mind.

He takes my hand and leads me toward the Radcliffe Camera and its cobbled square. Tourists and members of the public point at me in my gown and I feel like a minor celebrity as some take pictures when we pass them.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see. Trust me. There is something I need to do." He squeezes my hand and walks swiftly as I dance along beside him in my heels, taking two steps to his one.

We skirt round the walls of my college and find ourselves at the entrance to the Botanic Gardens.

"Oh Edward, really? Today? Are you sure?" I look at him sympathetically and I'm reluctant to follow him further.

"Yes, yes I am." He nods his head.

"I spoke about this with my counsellor and we decided it would be a good idea for me to do this. Come on." He tugs my hand and we walk through the entrance where Edward flashes his ID card.

The member of staff congratulates me on my graduation. I accept graciously and we make our way to Tanya's bench.

Edward lets go of my hand and moves forward to touch the bench. I stand quietly and remove my mortarboard as a sign of respect to Tanya.

He clears his throat and begins speaking in a firm, but soft voice.

"Hello, Tanya. I'm not sure if you can hear me, but I really hope you can. I want to introduce you to someone. She's really changed my life for the better and I think you'd like her."

He motions to me and his eyes are shining with tears.

"Tanya, this is Bella. The woman I want to spend the rest of my life with."

Tears stream down my face and I choke out a hello. Edward smiles and fights back tears of his own.

"She's taught me to how to live again and convinced me that I'm not a monster.

"I'm so sorry for the awful things that happened to you and for being an appalling husband. If I had my time again, I would have cherished you like you truly deserved.

"I'm lucky that I've been given another chance to love again, and I've chosen Bella. I truly hope that you give me your blessing and that wherever you are, you've found peace."

He kisses his hand and then places his fingers on the plaque, before stepping back and turning to face me.

"Edward." I choke out through my tears. He places his finger under my chin and lifts my head up to face him.

"Shh. This is a good thing." He kisses away the tears on my cheeks.

"I love you so much, Edward." I smile up at him as more tears gently trickle down my face.

"I love you, Bella." His lips come crashing down on mine and we kiss each other.

As we walk away from Tanya's bench we link hands and stare into each other's eyes. The raw emotion is palpable as we finally put our pasts behind us and embark on our long future together.

**A/n:** Sigh! It doesn't get much better than that does it...? Reviews please if you have the time. I love hearing from and replying to you all. x


	34. Chapter 33

**A/n: **So I may have lied a teeny bit...I am clearly unable to say goodbye to this pair, so you have xoEMC to thank for chapter 33 and an extended epilogue to follow in a couple of days.  
This however really is the last full chapter. Thanks for all of the reviews.  
Enjoy x

Chapter 33

It's been a long day; my graduation, moving out of University, saying goodbye to friends and finally moving forward with Edward. It's a lot to take in, so the peaceful ride back to Edward's house gives me time to reflect on it all.

Almost a year has passed since I was here last. All of my visits with Edward were either in Oxford or at his parent's house.

I had my concerns that returning here would feel like taking a step backwards. I have to keep reminding myself that I'm a different person now and I choose to come back here.

As we travel down the familiar path and come to a stop at the house I turn to look at Edward. He looks at me out of the corner of his eye and smiles as he concentrates on parking the car. I take a deep breath and get out of the car swiftly, not giving him the opportunity to open the door for me.

I shut the car door behind me and stand with my back to the old house. I place both of my palms flat on the roof of the car and take another breath, blowing the air out through my mouth.

I run my fingers through my hair and straighten my cardigan. Edward comes to stand beside me and strokes my back soothingly. I turn to look at him and smile.

"Are you okay?" he asks, head tilted down, eyes staring into mine.

I nod.

Standing to my full height, I push back my shoulders and turn from him to face the building that was my prison for so many years.

The sight that greets me causes my mouth to fall open in shock. It's strange - the place is unrecognisable, yet somehow deeply familiar at the same time.

The wall that separates my old house from Edward's has gone and a continuous dry stone wall encloses both of the properties. A new set of gates have been installed with a central driveway that divides into two forks. One leads to Edward's house and one to the other house, ending in a gravel area that looks like it could fit about six cars_. Hmm the new owners must be car enthusiasts. _

The garden plants are new and a box tree hedge has been constructed along both sides of the gravel drive from the gates leading up to the houses. A turf lawn has been laid with matching flowerbeds that contain Sweet Williams in a variety of shades in both gardens. I am struck by the uniformity of the gardens. The new neighbours must be very amenable if Edward has agreed to a communal space with them. _Strange that he hasn't mentioned them at all._

I finally force my eyes to focus on the house. Some structural work has been carried out. Larger windows have been added on the ground floor and the front door has been changed to a set of double doors that look a little like stable doors. They look peculiar for a house; they would lend themselves better to a shop of some sort.

I turn to Edward and he looks apprehensive. I suppose he's just waiting to see what my reaction is to the communal garden.

"You have a shared garden? I'm surprised you didn't mention that. Are they pleasant neighbours?"

I am confused that Edward hasn't mentioned anyone over the past months.

"Bella, I have a confession to make."

He looks uneasy and I raise my eyebrows waiting for him to continue. _What on earth can he have kept from me?_

"Mr J Jenks is actually my accountant." He looks at me expectantly.

"Your accountant bought the house? Well, why didn't you say anything? Won't it be a bit strange living next door to him?" I ask, puzzled.

"Umm no, that's not what I meant." He rubs the back of his neck and clears his throat.

"My accountant bought the property on my behalf, so that you wouldn't know it was me that purchased it."

"I don't understand. Why wouldn't you want me to know…" I trail off.

"Well, I wanted it to be a surprise. A nice one I hope." He shrugs and waits for me to respond.

"Edward, do you want me to live here alone and you in your house?" I fight back tears, I thought we would live together. Maybe he's not as ready as I am. _Have I been a fool?_

"What? No, no! That's not what I meant at all!" He sees the concern on my face and wraps his arms around me.

I sigh with relief and melt into his arms.

"Well, then why did you want to buy the house?" My voice is muffled as I speak into his chest.

"It's pretty selfish really." I lift my head and look up at him.

"Selfish how?" I'm still confused.

"Well, you've finished your course and you'll be teaching soon. I've finished my final book and I suppose I need a project to see me through the long lonely days when you're out at work." He smiles and strokes my back.

"So, I bought this place to renovate it. To produce apple juice and cider so that I can sell it in the shop along with other local and organic produce." He pulls back from me and his eyes are sparkling with excitement.

"So, now you know the truth, what do you really think?"

I mull it over. He's building a life for us here. He's working towards our future and he built all of this, so that something good and pure could come out of such a dark place.

"I think it's a wonderful idea. Will you tell me more about it?" His enthusiasm is infection.

"I can do much better than that." He fishes around in his jeans pocket, pulls out a set of keys and dangles them in front of my face.

"Let's go take a look." He takes my hand and we scurry up the drive.

We get to the door and I look down at the welcome mat, it has the words 'Welcome to The Orchard' printed on it. I look up at him at squeeze his hand.

"The Orchard? Is that what you're calling this place?"

He nods.

"I love it!"

I wait for Edward to unlock the door and he motions for me to make my way in first. I take a tentative step inside the house and my hands fly to my mouth in astonishment.

I hardly recognise the place any more. It's no longer my old house- it's a shop! The entire ground floor has been made open plan, with a number of columns where the walls were to provide support. All the carpets have gone and are replaced with strong oak floorboards.

The walls are painted a dark green colour with a cream ceiling and skirting-boards. A number of framed botanical illustrations containing images of cider apples and Perry pears adorn the walls. You can see that he has started to get the place ready for opening. There is a counter made from the same wood as the floors with a till on one side.

One of the windowsills is full of wicker baskets, awaiting their produce, and there are green and white seersucker curtains at the windows with dark green cord tying them back. There is also a table with empty egg boxes piled high. Another counter top has room for what looks like a cake display area and an impressive looking coffee machine. A few small tables are scattered near this counter so it looks like a small tea room.

"Edward, it's fantastic. Did you do all of this?" It's not quite finished, but it looks amazing. I'm in awe.

"Emmett and I did most of it, but some of the more structural work we had to get builders to help with. Also the planning applications were a nightmare so we used an architect for that stuff." He lights up as he speaks, obviously relieved that I like it.

"Are you going to have a café or some sort of tea room over there?" I point at the small tables.

"Well, I thought that perhaps on the weekends or over the summer you might like to make a huge batch of your scones, flapjacks and lemon drizzle cake so that we could sell them here."

"That's a brilliant idea, but I remember your oven Edward! It would take forever to cook up a large batch. I'll help you as much as I can, but I have a feeling my new job is going to keep me pretty busy." I talk gently, not wanting to dampen his spirits at all.

"Well, that's why I built this." He takes my hand, leads me past the counter and takes me into an area of the house that he has extended and turned into the most incredible kitchen I have ever seen.

It's a beautifully modern area, yet it's sympathetic to the house. There are wooden cupboards with marble worktops and ceramic tiles are placed on the wall in a checkerboard pattern in dark green and cream, matching the colour scheme of the shop.

Light stone tiles are on the floor and as I look up, I notice there is a conservatory style ceiling that lets in a huge amount of light; it also allows for all of the extraction when cooking. A huge butcher's block is positioned in the middle of the kitchen, with a rack hanging above it that is full of bright shiny new copper pans.

There's also a larder and a huge refrigerator and freezer. It's almost like a commercial kitchen, but with a homely feel.

Utensils decorate some of the countertops and a huge range cooker takes up a large section of the kitchen. He's thought of everything and not only that, he thought of me as he made it all.

I turn to Edward and kiss him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"I love it," I say as I pull away from him.

"That's a relief! I was really worried you hate it." He kisses me back.

"What have you done with the upstairs?" I enquire.

"Well, there is an office up there and a storeroom. It's nothing special really." He shrugs.

"Edward, you've been so busy. I can't believe you kept this so quiet." I shake my head in disbelief at him. He's so devious.

"It was so hard to keep it a secret from you. Especially at Christmas. I really thought that one of my family would drop me in it." He chuckles.

"How did you get all of this done? And finish the book as well?" I remain in his arms, enjoying his proximity as we talk.

"Well to be honest, Emmett did most of this on his own. He's a real handyman, but I also had a lot of spare time on my hands with you gone." His voice saddens.

"You aren't going anywhere again are you? No travel plans or relocations you forgot to tell me about?" He sounds like he's only half joking.

"Nope, I'm afraid you're stuck with me now." I kiss him on the tip of the nose.

"Good." He kisses me and then pulls away and takes my hand.

"There's one more thing for you to see."

He leads me to a huge set of French doors that open out onto the old garden which I can see has been merged with the orchard.

If I thought the house was impressive, then this is something else! Immediately outside the door there is an herb garden containing practically everything you could imagine: fennel, oregano, rosemary, thyme, chives, sage, bay, parsley and mint. There is then a large greenhouse that looks to be full of chilies, tomatoes, and other more fragile herbs for this climate like basil and coriander.

My eyes then fall on a chicken coop and a collection of happy looking hens that are roaming freely. The bottom part of the garden has a few raised beds, planted out with vegetables. There are also three small poly-tunnels to the left of the raised beds.

Right at the bottom of the garden there are some sheds that are being built.

"This is fantastic. You're going to be really self-sufficient." I am so impressed by all of his hard work.

"We are Bella. This is ours. I know I'll be the one running it, but I want this to be a home and a life for us." He drapes an arm around my shoulder.

"At this rate I won't want to go to work. This place looks like it'll be much more fun." I squeeze his hand.

"What's going on down there?" I point at the sheds.

"Emmett is going to build a small petting zoo, with rabbits, guinea pigs, some rare-breed pigs and sheep. He's hoping he could do some domestic veterinary work there too." Edward seems quite proud of his brother.

"So this will be a family business? You think you'll manage to work with him?" I answer, smiling at him.

"Well, it would seem that Emmett is quite taken with the place. He and Rose are getting on extremely well and he has moved in with her. So I think he'll be around for quite a while. I also think Rose might want to help with the tea room. You'll love her. She's a bundle of energy - perfect for Emmett." He pulls me into his side and kisses me near my ear.

"Do you love it? Can you be happy here with me?" His voice is so thick with emotion.

"Of course I love it. I want to live out all of my days here with you, Edward. Our time apart has made me realise I want to be with you forever. If you'll have me?" I suddenly feel shy.

"You don't know how happy you've made me. We'll take it slowly, I promise, but I am so proud to say you're mine of your own free will and that I am yours." He puts his hands either side of my face and I raise up on my tiptoes so that he can kiss me.

"I know that you will always respect me. You make me feel so safe and strong. I love you, Edward Cullen." I kiss him deeply, pouring everything I have into the embrace.

"I love you too, Bella Swan." He holds me against his chest and I listen to his heart beating.

"How is the orchard going? Can I see it?" I break away from him reluctantly.

"Sure, you can get to it from here now." I follow Edward as he leads me to the right of the house and we head in the direction of Edward's house.

The orchard has changed so much. The existing trees are huge as a result of the TLC we gave them, the newer trees are growing well too.

He's done a lot of work here, a whole area has been built to pulp the fruit and make the cider. He has achieved the dreams he had when he first moved here. I remember the first time he told me he was thinking of turning it into a cider farm, when he leant over the wall that is no longer here and asked me what my maiden name was. I smile to myself at the memory, but then I remember the names of the other fruit trees he added.

"Edward, you never told me why one of the fruits you bought was called 'Bloody Bastard'." I ask.

He looks at me and runs his hand through his hair before answering me.

"I bought it because of James. It was what I thought of him for the way he treated you when I came round for dinner and for finding you first before I did." He smiles.

"You're so beautiful, Bella, and the fact that you don't even realise it, just makes you even more exquisite. I'm so lucky to have you in my life." He looks at me wistfully and I feel myself blush.

"I think we're both pretty lucky to have found each other." I close my eyes and press myself up against him, wrapping my arms around his strong back, shutting out the world for a few minutes so that it is just me and him.

X-X-X-X-X

I stand alone holding a glass of champagne, I raise a hand to my hair checking for any loose curls and scan my eyes around the roof-garden. Palms adorn the terrace along with brightly coloured tropical anthuriums, birds of paradise and some of the largest calla lilies I have laid eyes on. Small water features are dotted throughout, while crimson Japanese Maples in pots appear haphazardly scattered around the terrace.

A large table in the covered portion of the terrace near the bar area, houses Edward's new book. A giant framed black and white photograph of Edward also rests on the table, lest we forget what he looks like. I know for a fact he despises that photo of him and his extreme reaction when he saw it attests to that. I chuckle to myself it's a sweet reward for all the damn photos he takes of me!

A number of esteemed guests from the publishing industry mingle with influential members of the UK press and their photographers. They all swarm around the table leafing through the pages of the book and gobbling canapés and champagne whenever a member of the waiting staff comes near.

Small groups of Edward's friends and family chatter away animatedly to each other. It's been wonderful to catch up with them. Carlisle and Esme are as lovely and parental as always. Alice is now dating someone called Jasper; he's from Copenhagen and she seems completely infatuated with him. I watch the two of them from a distance as a waitress approaches with a tray of canapés. Jasper takes one of the mini lemon drizzle cakes – Edward requested them - and feeds it to Alice. I smile to myself.

We travelled to Edward's book launch with Emmett and Rose. At one point I didn't think we'd make it. Emmett's relentless teasing almost pushed Edward over the edge. I thought he was going to kick him out at the side of the A40.

Edward's all platinum blonde and power dressing publicist, Jane, stalks over towards me. Her blood red lips twist into a grimace as she talks to me through gritted teeth.

"Bella." She hisses. "Do you know why Edward is taking so long? He went to the bathroom at least 15 minutes ago."

She nods her head in the direction of a bespectacled man and smiles thinly. Her skinny fingers grip the Champagne flute as though she might crush it in her bare hands.

"I have some very important, very busy people here that are getting tetchy. Edward needs to come out here and say a few words so that there'll be some text to accompany his photo in the press tomorrow." She smiles insincerely and waves at someone else I don't know.

"Perhaps he's been delayed talking to someone." I offer up.

"Impossible. I've been watching that door like a hawk. He went in and he hasn't come out and neither has anyone else." She snaps before lifting her glass to her lips and draining it.

"You have to go and talk to him. Tell him to get out here." She demands.

"Why can't you go?" I counter. I don't like this venomous woman one bit and I refuse to let her dictate to me.

"Bella, unless you've noticed I have a room full of people to schmooze. I don't have the luxury of going AWOL like Edward." She raises her hands in the air and sighs exaggeratedly.

"Fine. I'll go check on him." I drain my glass and hand it to Jane, her eyebrows go skyward in shock.

"But know this, Jane, I'm going out of concern for Edward. Not because you think you can order me around." I spin on my heel, not waiting for a reaction. _What a rude woman!_

I head towards the door marked Toilets and push it gently, peeking around the doorway. Edward is pacing back and forth in the powder room that connects the unisex toilets. He doesn't hear me enter the room as the carpet is thick underfoot and my shoes don't make a sound.

He's dressed impeccably in a tailored pinstripe three piece suit, an ivory shirt and a blue tie that is the same shade as the dress I'm wearing. His hair, which was artfully messy earlier, is now just a complete mess - he's obviously been worrying it with his hands.

He comes to a stop at the countertop and rests his hands on the side as he looks down at the basin. When he looks up at the mirror our eyes connect. It feels electric. He smiles tightly and turns to look at me.

"There's a roomful of people out there wondering where you are Mr Cullen." I smile softly and walk over to him.

He opens his arms to me and I step into them, he rests his chin on top of my head.

"Tell them I'm in here hiding." He says sombrely.

"Exactly why are you in here hiding? Surely you've been to tons of these things." I try to put it into context.

He sighs and I pull away so I can see his face. He's easier to read that way.

"You look really beautiful tonight. I love that shade on you." His eyes skim over my whole body and I almost shiver under his gaze. He reaches out a hand and plays with a loose strand of my hair – I wore it up for the occasion. Rose did it for me. She's very adept at these things.

"Thank you, but don't change the subject." I mock scold him and place both my hands on his chest smoothing the lapels of his jacket. He's wearing a waistcoat too and I can see the chain from the pocket watch I bought him on display.

"Honestly, I've always avoided these things and made Jane deal with them. This is the first and last one of these I'll ever attend. I suppose I worry that I won't say something that is befitting of the setting." He sighs.

"Jane puts so much pressure on me and there are so many people here. I really despise public speaking." He rubs his face with both hands and breathes through his fingers.

"Edward, you're one of the most erudite people I know. I'm sure you can say something poignant and relevant out there. You need to have more faith in yourself. You speaking out there is no different than me standing in front of a class full of pupils." I reason.

"Well, actually the people out there probably want to be here. Some of the teens I had to deal with really didn't care for the finer points of Jude the Obscure." I shake my head to rid it of the lesson in question and count my lucky stars that I shall be teaching primary school pupils and not teen boys.

"I know you're right and I know I'm being silly, I just need a moment. Have I been gone long?" He checks his pocket watch before I can answer him. He looks like he's stepped back in time, flipping it shut and depositing it back in his pocket.

"Do you want me to get Esme?" I ignore his question about time as he clearly answered it himself.

"No, you're all I want." He straightens himself to his full height and bends his head to kiss me on the neck just behind the ear. I'm wearing the pearls he bought me, along with my mother's necklace. He kisses lower, moving to my exposed collarbone.

I moan at the soft open mouthed sweet kisses and fall into his arms.

"Edward, we have to stop. Someone might come in here." Reluctantly I push him from me.

"But kissing you calms my nerves." He stops kissing me and pouts.

"We really should go out there. Just imagine it's me you're talking to and that there's no one else there." I offer for reassurance.

"Ok, will you come with me though? If you're stood next to me it'll make it easier." He pleads.

"Of course, if that's what you want." I nod and kiss him on the lips.

"OK, how do I look?" He stands before me and I smile at him. He looks gorgeous to me, if a bit crumpled in places.

Instead of answering him, I straighten his jacket, smooth the shoulders of his suit and reach up further still to tidy up his hair. He places his hands at my waist to steady me.

"You feel so tiny and fragile in my hands sometimes. Ironically, I honestly think that this period of your life is the strongest I've ever seen you." He muses.

"I do feel like a completely different Bella now. I wouldn't change a thing, though." I say with conviction.

"Me either. Well, I'd like to make an honest woman of you someday, but that's another conversation for another day." His words make me swell and I feel myself blush. Mrs Bella Cullen - oh I do like the sound of that.

"Perhaps if you draw up some details of your proposal I would be able to look something over Mr Cullen. I'm open to offers." I try to sound aloof.

"I'll talk to my solicitors and get something drawn up Miss Swan." He beams at me and grabs my hand.

"Come on let's get this over with, so I can do terrible things to you back at the hotel." He strides confidently towards the door.

We exit the bathroom and bump straight into Jane.

"Ed-ward! There you are!" Jane coos.

"Everyone has a shot of cider as you requested and they're ready for you to say a few words."

"Thank you Jane, I'm ready now." He strides past her and makes his way over to the table of books, taking me with him.

He notices a waiter with a tray of cider and he takes two, handing one to me. I take the cider and turn to look at Jane. She motions for me to come and stand by her, but I ignore her and follow Edward's wishes, remaining firmly at his side. He grabs a copy of The Magdalen Saga and holds it in his other hand.

The background music ceases and Edward clears his throat as all eyes in the room turn to look at him. I feel myself flush as a few pairs settle on me as well.

"Ladies, Gentlemen…Members of the press." He pauses as there is a polite ripple of laughter.

"Thank you very much for making the effort to come here today to sample the free food and drink." More gentle laughter.

"This final book has been many things to me. It began as a chore, something to finish for the sake of completion. It then turned into something that I pushed to the back of my mind and pretended I hadn't started. Difficult experiences, which I know you're all too familiar with, made writing too painful."

He pauses to swallow and turns his attention to the book in his hand.

"Then, I met Bella Swan." He turns to smile at me. I flush bright red with all the attention and touch my pearl necklace for comfort.

"She rekindled a light inside me that I thought had long gone out, never to be reignited. Writing became enjoyable once more, even cathartic and the prospect of finishing was no longer daunting. Instead it would provide me with the opportunity to move on to the next phase of my life."

The entire room hangs on his every word.

"So, I truly hope that you enjoy reading this as much I came to enjoy writing it. I would like to take this opportunity to announce my retirement from writing as I embark upon my next venture. A sample of which you should all have in your hands now."

He beams brightly and a number of people gasp and murmur amongst themselves as they take in his words and examine the cider in their hands.

"I'd like to raise a toast. To the next chapter." He raises his glass and looks at me before downing his cider.

"The next chapter." Everyone echoes including myself and I tip back my drink.

Jane then steps up and addresses the press while Edward and I slope off to the side. A few people pat him on the back and congratulate him on his decision and the quality of his cider. He responds politely, shaking hands and shepherding me away from the crowds.

"So have you actually looked at the finished article?" He asks handing me a copy of the book.

"Not yet." I shake my head.

"I think you should." He takes the glass from my hand and places it on a nearby table.

I open the book and leaf through the pages. I get to the 'Acknowledgements' section and my name jumps out at me from the page.

I look up at Edward in awe before returning my attention to the text.

_Bella,  
You are my beginning, middle and end.  
Before you, there was nothing.  
Thank you for saving me.  
E x_

Tears prick at the corner of my eyes and reaching out a hand I cup the side of his face. I mouth the words 'thank you' unsure my voice would be up to speaking. He turns his head and kisses my palm.

His other hand curls around my waist and pulls me into him. I kiss him greedily, crushing the book between us.

He breaks away from the kiss and whispers in my ear.

"Let's get out of here."

**A/n:** Hope you enjoyed it, I've loved finally finishing this story for you all. See you at the next and final installment. Flubbles x


	35. Epilogue

**A/n: Well everyone here is the final part of A Form of Escapism. Thank you all for the wonderful reviews and the support over the life-span of this story. I've made some wonderful friends from writing this story and I feel so pleased that I was able to complete it. As ever...enjoy. xx**

Epilogue

"Edward have you seen my keys?"

My hands fly to my hair as I pace around the house trying to round up all of the things I need for my first day at my new job.

"They're here where you left them." He calls from the kitchen.

I run into the room, my stocking covered feet slide on the wooden floor. Edward's arms fly out and catch me before I almost fall over. I smile at him apologetically and steady myself using his arms.

"Bella, calm down! Drink your coffee, have a piece of toast and just take a couple of minutes." I try to follow his sage advice, but I'm just too nervous. I wring my hands and check my watch.

"Sorry, I just want to make a good first impression and I really don't want to be late. Do I have time for breakfast?" I look at him, my eyes wide.

"Yes, you have time. The traffic really won't be bad this early." I take the mug of coffee and the proffered piece of toast, chewing thoughtfully and leaning back against one of the countertops.

"When you come home tonight, you really will wonder why you worried so much." He smiles at me. I watch as he makes the finishing touches to my packed lunch.

He's so good to me. I really am blessed to have him.

"Is that my packed lunch?" I ask coyly.

"You know it is. I even put in an apple for teacher." He smiles and places everything in a Tupperware container.

I finish the last bite of my breakfast and drain my coffee cup. I straighten my blouse and skirt and slip my feet into some kitten heels.

"How do I look?" I stand waiting for his inspection.

"Like you mean business." He grins.

"I was going for the soft approach. They're only 5!" I feel panic begin to bubble up inside me.

"Relax, you look great. It'll all go fine." He hugs me gently.

"You're right. Positive thinking."

I grab my coat, the satchel Edward bought me, my keys and I take a deep breath.

"Right. I better go before I'm late."

"I'll walk you to the car." He brings my lunch and gets the front door for me. I duck under his arm and catch his scent as I brush past him, aftershave, toothpaste and a lungful of the great outdoors.

He's already been to feed the chickens and Emmett's menagerie. Weather permitting, he drinks his early morning coffee outside as he carries out all of his checks. He looks so carefree out there. Some mornings I find myself just watching him from our bedroom window.

I overheard him talking to Emmett the other day about getting a Labrador. I think he'd love a canine shadow to follow him around in the day. I shall have to mention to him that I think it would be a great idea.

I walk down the path and come to a stop at my car, a new Fiat 500. Edward came with me to buy it. I love it and the size is perfect.

I get into the car and open my window so I can speak to him. He passes my lunch through the window and I place it on the passenger seat along with my coat and bag.

"What are you going to do with yourself today?" I enquire. This is one of the first day's we'll spend apart in a long time. I'll miss him.

"I have a few loose ends to tie-up with the shop so that it's ready for the opening weekend." He leans on the roof of the car.

"I'm so looking forward to the weekend. I will be sure to get the children to tell their parents all about it."

We've been gearing up to this for months, I've never baked so much in my life. Edward has sourced some amazing teas and coffees for the shop. He's struck up some great deals with farmers and the local dairy so that he will have some stock to sell before his own produce is fully established.

"That would be wonderful, tell them we'll have some of your world famous cake available for free too." He reaches a hand through the car window and tucks my hair behind my ear.

"I'll be sure to mention it. Perhaps I should've bought some with me today to soften up my colleagues?" A fleeting look of worry dances across my face.

"Relax, a few minutes of talking to you and they'll be as in love you with as I am." He leans in through the car and kisses me deeply. I melt into the kiss and taking my hands off the wheel I place them either side of his face.

I break away from him, my breathing heavy as I look at him through half-closed eyes.

"Drive safely Miss Swan and I'll see you tonight." He taps the roof the car and takes a step back.

"I love you." I call out to him.

"I love you too."

With that I drive away as Edward stands in the garden waving. I beep my horn at him and raise an arm out of the window to wave goodbye.

X-X-X-X-X

My first morning has gone by in a blur, I cannot believe how much of a success it has been. The children are delightful, but high spirited. It's halfway through my day and I'm exhausted. They're all outside now, playing in the sunshine during their lunch-break.

I settle down at my desk, a stack of documents that require my attention sit in front of me, along with my lunch. I am grateful for the break.

I open my lunch container and take out a tiny bottle of apple juice – made by Edward. There are also sandwiches, cut into four, a small side salad and a piece of lemon drizzle cake wrapped in greaseproof paper.

I take a closer look at the wrapped cake and notice that there is some writing on the paper. I unwrap it and embedded in the top of the cake I see a ring staring up at me. The pearl ring is flanked with three diamond leaves either side of the stone. I marvel at its beauty, plucking it from the cake and looking at the white gold band.

My hands fly to my mouth as I move the cake and there written beneath it are the words 'Marry me?'

Tears prick at the corner of my eyes and I reach for my bag, looking for my mobile phone so that I can call Edward.

I dial his number and he answers on the first ring.

"Bella?" His voice is quiet and I can hear his nerves.

"Of course I'll marry you." I whisper to him, looking at the ring in my other hand.

I wait for him to answer.

"Edward..?" Is he still there?

A knock at the door to my classroom makes me jump. As I look up, Edward is staring at me through the glass, with his mobile phone held to his ear.

"Come in." I say into the phone.

He turns the door handle slowly and I stand from my desk, my eyes never leaving his. He crosses the room and sweeps me up into his arms.

My phone clatters on to the desk as I grab handfuls of his shirt and kiss him greedily, pressing my body into his. My eyes close and I moan into his embrace.

Edward is first to break the kiss. He smiles down at me and strokes my face tenderly.

"You've made me the happiest man in the world, Miss Swan."

"And you've made me the happiest woman in the world. I can't wait to be Mrs Cullen." I grin at him and lean in for another kiss.

He holds his hand out and I give him my left hand. He takes the ring gently from my hand and slips it on to my ring finger. It fits perfectly and feels at home there. Edward lifts my hand to his lips and places a kiss on the ring.

I smile down at him as he places my hand on his chest and pulls me into his arms. I close my eyes and rest my head on his chest - no one else matters. It's just the two of us and life doesn't get any better than this.

The End

**Thank you all!  
Flubbles x**


End file.
